


with you i serve, with you i fall down (down)

by sara_coffeeontherocks



Category: Generation Kill, The Pacific (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Alternate Universe - Everyone Lives/Nobody Dies, Alternate Universe - Haldane and Jones Don't Die, AndyEddie, Angst, Angst with a Happy Ending, BAMF Doc, Blood and Gore, Character Death, Doc Bryan goes back in time to save some of our favorite men, Eddie and Doc become best buds, Everyone Needs A Hug, F/M, Feelings, Found Family, Friendship, Hurt/Comfort, Idiots in Love, K and H company get thrown together bc I said so, King Co. adopts Doc as their own, Loss of Faith, M/M, Nightmares, Religious Guilt, Time Travel Fix-It, World War II, everyone is bi as fuck
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-07-31
Updated: 2020-09-06
Packaged: 2021-03-06 05:00:36
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 5
Words: 29,249
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25577710
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sara_coffeeontherocks/pseuds/sara_coffeeontherocks
Summary: Timothy 'Doc' Bryan wakes up in 1942, on a USS headed to the Solomon Islands. He decides to make the most of it and save some lives, kick some ass and help the men around him, so they can make it through the war.
Relationships: Andrew A. "Ack-Ack" Haldane/Edward "Hillbilly" Jones, John Basilone/Lena Riggi Basilone, R. V. Burgin & Jay De L'Eau & Bill Leyden & Merriell "Snafu" Shelton & Eugene Sledge, Robert Leckie/Bill "Hoosier" Smith, Sidney "Sid" Phillips & Eugene Sledge, Timothy "Doc" Bryan & Edward "Hillbilly" Jones, Timothy Bryan & Mike Wynn, Timothy Bryan & Nate Fick, Timothy Bryan/Original Character(s), Wilbur "Runner" Conley/Lew "Chuckler" Juergens
Comments: 22
Kudos: 32





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

  * For [captainkilly](https://archiveofourown.org/users/captainkilly/gifts).
  * Inspired by [A Devil Dog in Baggy Pants](https://archiveofourown.org/works/482598) by [buffyaddict13](https://archiveofourown.org/users/buffyaddict13/pseuds/buffyaddict13). 



> Hello dear reader,  
> I was toying with the idea of sending Doc Bryan back in time so he can learn from/help the Marines of the Pacific and then I thought aye let's write it so here we go. And AndyEddie is my biggest ship ever so I had to include them yo. also yes the title is from Epiphany by Taylor Swift, it's beautiful, it fits and it is one of my favorites, also it gave me Doc feels so there's that.  
> This fic is based on the actors portrayal and by no means I want to disrespect the real men. All grammar mistakes are due to English being my second language, please feel free to point them out.  
> Kudos and comments are welcome :)

_'Keep your helmet, keep your life, son_  
_Just a flesh wound, here's your rifle_  
_Crawling up the beaches now_  
_"Sir, I think he's bleeding out"_  
_And some things you just can't speak about'  
_

_Epiphany by Taylor Swift_

**August 5, 1942, USS Marianne, near the Solomon Islands**

It is the rocky feeling of the waves crashing to the sides of the ship that wake him. The room he is in is like countless other ones he spent his Navy Hospitalman training in. He feels that he is not as worried as he is ought to be. Maybe the fact that he isn't sure if it is real at all stops him from freaking out.

When he fell asleep, he was still in Iraq, in Camp Matilda. He sure as shit wasn't in the bottom of a ship, with 12 other sailors and marines in their respective cots, out like a light, some of them snoring lightly. 

He remembers now, that when he was still in boot camp when learning about the 'History of the Navy' he has seen clothes like this. Standard military issued clothes for USMC personnel during World War II, deployed in the Pacific Theatre.

In the weak light that emits from a lamp above him, he takes in his surroundings. There are men around him, covered in olive green blankets, all sleeping. As he takes in their faces in the low light, he realizes that none of them look familiar. If anything at all, they look like young boys, fresh out of boot camp, almost not old enough to be on a Navy ship like this. They remind Tim o Trombley and Christenson, boys eager to learn about war, about how to shoot, not knowing the risk of it all. 

As he makes that connection, he starts to calm down a bit. His brain is just coming up with _too realistic_ dreams, he decides. 

Throwing the blanket off of himself, he takes a deep breath and finally dares to look down at his own body. He looks and feels the same, but his clothes are different than those he went to sleep in. He is not in his camouflage gear anymore, and his bandana is missing too. He is sporting a white t-shirt and brown pants. The weight of his dog tags feels different.  Curiously, he pulls them out under his shirt, lifts them up to inspect them. They read:

_BRYAN_

_Timothy R._

_7_ _21876413 C_

_TYPE-O-_

_T.09/41_

_USMC_

He doesn't recognize his enlistment number, or why is there a tetanus shot indicated there dating back to what seems like 1941. The two metal tags are round and cool in his palm. His brain is coming up with two possible scenarios. This is either a very very detailed dream about some random USS ship from 60 years ago _or_ the Universe _or_ God is fucking with him, and he is somehow back in time. 

_Well fuck I am Recon, after all, dreaming or not, this should be interesting_ he decides as he gets up from his cot.

He notices a jacket, draped on what assumes is his bag, and after inspecting the thread work that indicates it's a Corpsman's jacket he puts it on. He laces up his boots and as soundless as he can, steps out to the corridor. The door he walks out of reads **H Company** , so he has at least one detail to remember. His gut tells him to get some fresh air so he hits the stairs. To his surprise he doesn't meet anyone, it seems as if he is the only man alive on the ship. He soon makes it up to the deck, the smell of saltwater clearing his head immediately. It dawns on him that he hasn't been near any kind of sea in 6 months and that this feels too real to be a dream. He rests his elbows on the railing and drinks up the scenery.

Around him, there is only water and the paling horizon. The sun is hidden, the moon and stars still visible. It must be around 3 am, he muses, squinting at the stars. He decides he will watch the sunrise. To pass the time, he turns out his pockets, trying to find anything to hold onto. His hand touches something like paper as he searches his jacket breast pocket. He pulls out a pack of smokes.

_Lucky Strikes_. The package looks old, an exact replica of those used in war movies.

It isn't his jacket, after all, he decides, since the last time he ever held a cigarette he was 17, shooting the shit at his graduation party. He frowns, thinking ' _It might as well be a dream_ _who gives a fuck if its not mine?'_ and fishes one out to light it up, to test his theory.  When he doesn't find a lighter in his pockets after several minutes of searching, he almost throws his unlit cancer stick into the water. He tries to concentrate, trying to conjure up a lighter. When he doesn't succeed,he starts to give up on the dream theory.

He almost yelps in surprise when he hears someone ask "You alright there Bryan? Need a light?".

The voice is kind, as smooth as a summer breeze, and it belongs to a curly-haired, tall, blue-eyed, young Marine. The man's eyes twinkle with mischief but they are sincere. He is taller but slimmer than Tim is. But he has certain wisdom in his eyes, authority in the set of his shoulders. As Tim takes in the Marine's appearance, he notices the three chevrons on his sleeves. He decides to speak up, feeling like he stared enough.

"Aye sir, but I can't seem to find my goddamn lighter," he prays that somehow he can find more answers by the end of this interaction. He doesn't know which would be scarier: his mind making up scenes and people who feel and look too real or finding out he is back in time. 

During his musings, the Sergeant fishes out his lighter, and gestures to Tim to pass him his cigarette. He puts Tim's cigarette in his mouth and lights it with the practical hands of a long time smoker. As soon as the flame touches the end of the smoke, he hands it back to him. There is something in the way he watches Tim with careful eyes.

"Thank you, sir" he exhales, nicotine in his lungs and on his tongue. It tastes real. Then all of this must be real too, he thinks.

"No worries Doc. Can't have our favorite Corpsman struggle, can we?" he laughs, a boyish smile lighting up his face. 

Tim decides to share the smoke, offering it with a flick of the wrist. As the sergeant happily takes the smoke, he wishes, he somehow knew the man's name. At the exact time he thinks this, the marine quips:

"And Doc, I told you to call me Jones. Drop the "sir", please, at least while we are having a smoke at zero dark hundred." he flashes that boyish smile again. Doc shakes his head in disbelief,  maybe  the Universe _is_ fucking with him. Or the man is reading his thoughts. Who the hell knows.

"Aye, aye, _sir_." says, just because he can. Sergeant Jones smirks and rolls his eyes. 

"Smartass." 

As the sun starts to climb up the horizon, rising  slowly  above the water, painting the sky - purple, violet, pink, orange, and golden - Doc finds that he stopped worrying. Maybe  it is the sunrise, the nicotine from the cigarette, or the good company, but he feels assured that not everything is lost.

* 

He gave up on fooling himself that this is just a dream because he tried to wake himself up. After he and Sergeant Jones went back to their own barracks, a particularly beautiful sunrise and two shared cigarettes later, he starts to reflect on his day so far.

While he prepares for the others to wake up he tries to remember his previous day in Iraq. There must be an answer, somewhere in the past.

When they first got to Camp Matilda, there was a myth going around, local folklore that sometimes people disappear or change, or go crazy because they insist they went back in time after living through a sandstorm. No one actually paid any attention to the oh-so-serious faces of the elders as they told the story of an elder woman, who claimed to have gone back to 1902 and met her great grandmother and apparently changed her family history. The marines just laughed and started to come up with the worst-case scenarios of time travel.

Seemingly not quite letting go of the topic, yesterday morning Ray Person went on a long rant - and this was before any of them had coffee, around 0600, just before a training exercise- that if he ever got sent back in time, he wouldn't want to be dropped into the Pacific theatre because "That shit was _brutal_ homes! I'd rather go and freeze my ass off in Europe or Russia! If I am going to be back in time I don't want to be picked off like a turkey on a beach!". Immediately Colbert started arguing about the fact that "How can you be a real marine Ray if you would rather fuck off to Europe than help your fellow devil dogs, I swear I never knew you liked the Army more-" "- _homes_ , haven't you read the history books I'd rather go and eat my own eyeballs than fry in some Navy tin can while the Japanese Emperor decides to blow me up, you can't even swim to shore because they shot you down! There were jungle rot _and_ malaria! They barely had enough ammo, no thank you, _this_ marine would hate that, and even their guns were-" and so on. 

At that time Tim just dismissed the idea, rather being worried about command and the fact that they could start the breach into the country any minute now. But then, after they hit the barracks to sleep, there _was_ a sandstorm. And after they got back from securing the tents, he _did_ feel a bit strange, his ears were ringing and he had a funny feeling in his stomach. At the time he thought it was just the horrible excuse of garbage they had for chow, but alas. 

And as he was falling asleep, he did think back about Ray's "history lesson" about the Pacific, and he thought _what a hell of a fight could that have been._ And now he is here to actually live through it.

_I can't believe a fucking sandstorm put me here, what the fuck._

As the blaring of an alarm system signaled the time for breakfast, Tim made his bed while his company around him rouse from their sleep. 

_Well, new Marines to meet and a whole different war to fight. Bring it on, Universe._

The men, getting dressed while talking excitedly about the day ahead of them, all greeted him with a ''Morning Doc!", "Hiya Doc!" and a sarcastic "Hey our beautiful Corpsman is not dead yet, aye we might survive this shit!" he realized that maybe the times have changed the marines attitude sure haven't.

They make their way to the mess hall, and he decides to do some recon about the name of the USS, the date, and their destination. Maybe he can piece something together.

As he gets his breakfast- a type of mysterious bread, a sausage and some kind of brown sauce- he scans the mass of bodies and tables for a place to sit.

"Aye Corpsman! We have a seat here!"

The voice belongs to a small, brown-haired Marine. He makes his way to their table where the Marines are sitting, eating, smoking, shooting the shit.

A kid really - he must be the youngest of the whole fucking platoon - extends his hands.

"Sidney Philips, nice to meet you!"

The kid is like a golden-haired baby angel. Doc has the sudden urge to yell at whatever deity put him here, he can't help but wonder if he'll have to shove the kid's guts back into his stomach on the battlefield. He prays it doesn't come to it. Tim shifts the tray in his hands, shakes the offered palm.

The rest of the group greet him in a similar fashion, all handshakes - firmer than Philips's, but just as sincere - and smiles.

The small, sarcastic man who invited him over is called Wilbur Conely; a curly-haired giant of a marine, who should be intimidating but isn't, who just _beams_ at Tim, while he says his name is Lew Juergens, but everyone just calls him Chuckler. There is Bill 'Hoosier' Smith, who has one of the blues eyes Tim has ever seen. Then there is Gibson and then Leckie. They are a loud, sarcastic bunch and they remind him of Bravo 2. 

As they make room for Tim, Hoosier - smoking like there's no tomorrow - leans forward.

"So tell us Professor"-as it turns out, that's the nickname of Leckie - " why are we here?"

The others, even Doc -he finds- are looking at Leckie as if he's ought to have an answer to all this.

"You all really want to know?" he taunts.

They all nod. 

He takes a drag of the cigarette he bummed off of Hoosier, gestures with his hands :

_"Without a sign, his sword the brave man draws. and asks no omen but his country’s cause."_

As everyone groans and Hoosier gets back his smoke, Doc, smiling at the absurdity of the situation - a team of Marines and himself, looking for answers not knowing how this will end, adds :

_"But why shouldst thou suspect the war's success?"_

Leckie looks at him with surprise, taken aback by the corpsman's exact quote, but the tall man, Chuckler just snorts. 

"Well, aren't you both just dandy? What a way to motivate us to not die in the next couple of days, hey!"

Tim is just about to speak up - he can see Leckie opening his mouth to argue too, but they all are interrupted by a voice calling for everyone's attention. A Colonel, by his bars, clears his throat as a hush falls over the room. 

"As you all _gentleman_ know, we haven't had the location of our beach landing confirmed as until today. Now, at 6300 we received the name of the island we have to take, H and I Company." 

Everyone in the room is holding their breath. Goosebumps make their way down on Tims's arms. He suddenly knows the answer. His heart is in his throat. 

_Fuck, no, no, no,?!_

"In two days, as I was told by the Captain of this USS, we can make our landing. The island is called-"

 _Just don't say Guadalcanal. Shit, shit, shit_ Tim thinks, the same time as the Colonel says,

-"Guadalcanal." 


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A strange beach landing. Guadalcanal. Friendship. Coming to terms with being in a different time. Cigarettes.Crushes. And the horrors of war.  
> *cue dramatic music*

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hellooo again,  
> sorry for the wait, i'm at vacation with my fam & the internet connection is shitty so I could only post this today <3  
> hope you all dig it, thank you for the love and support <3  
> kudos and comments are as always, welcome!  
> all grammar mistakes, typos are mine, feel free to point them out :)

_'These are the days that must happen to you.'_

_Walt Whitman_

** August 6, 1942, near Guadalcanal **

In every room and hall of the ship, even on deck, you could cut the tension with a knife.

Every Navy personnel or Marine is a wire of nervous energy. They are landing on Guadalcanal in less than 24 hours. Every weapon and supply is being rechecked and cleaned. It's organized chaos, all men quietly doing their job, trying not to think about how it could be their last day on earth. 

Timothy Bryan is not a man to easily panic. But even he can admit he is scared shitless at the thought of Guadalcanal. He's been through boot camp, SARC and SERE training, and two previous deployments on three different USS. He was deployed in Afghanistan. He is, was about to go into Iraq. But nothing could have compared to the anxiety he is feeling now. Everything he knows about the pacific theatre of war is being replayed in his head. Nothing he can remember eases his mind. He tries to stay calm by talking to the marines of H Company, smoking, and learning as much as he can. At 0900 Corpsmen are asked to do an inventory and refill their supplies if anything is missing or needs to be re-supplied.  
Tim is among the 5 other corpsmen being deployed with H Company. When Tim steps into the room appointed for the H COMPANY CORPSMAN, there are only three of them around a table. By their name tags, there are Lewis, Stern, Kydd. None of them have met yet, the ship being too big and too full of Navy and Marine personnel for them to run into each other, and the officers didn't want them to get chummy, in case one of them got killed on the first day of combat. Tim thought even though it was effective, it's also loads of bullshit. If you are going to serve with 4 other people, for months maybe _years_ , you should at least get along.

  
But he has nothing to worry about because they greet each other like they're all long lost brothers. _In some sense we are_ , Tim thinks, _we are all speeding towards the same fate, malaria, death, and Japanese soldiers._ If that doesn't build a brother like a bond, nothing will.

They're still awaiting their fifth member of the group, but they start to chat about their home and ranks.

James Lewis is young, barely old enough to drink; all curious eyes and black curls, a kind smile. He's fast as a whip and while they quiz each other about the different possible injuries and illnesses, he is spot on with every answer. He is a Pharmacist's Mate 3rd Class and he enlisted as soon as he turned 17. He's a Louisiana native and he's always wanted to hell people, so when the opportunity came, he signed up to be a Corpsman.

Solomon Kydd is a thirty-year-old, honest to God sea-going Corpsman. His hair is buzzed almost to nothing and he has a mustache that would win him the first place at Bravo's mustache growing contest. His voice is like sandpaper, presumably from all the cigarettes and yelling at sailors throughout the years spent at sea. He is built like a weightlifter and he tells them he was serving on a USS when shit hit the fan at Pearl Harbor. He's a Pharmacist's Mate 1st Class, the highest in rank among them. He has a thick Texan accent and he reminds Tim of Gunny Wynn. 

Benjamin Stern is a brown-haired, blue-eyed Corpsman from Chicago, who has an ask-me-if-i-give-a-fuck attitude. He's twenty-six and he looks like he could put you in an early grave with one left hook. Tim likes him immediately. Stern tells them that he hates the fact that there's an ' _other fucking war going on, like the one before ended that well_ ', but he signed up because it was easy money and 'the right thing to do'. He's a Pharmacist's Mate 2nd Class. He takes no shit, and he has some terrible jokes, which he tells with a poker face and they lighten their anxious moods easily.

That leaves Tim and their mysterious member. Just as he opens his mouth to spin some half-truths about his home life, the door of the room swings open. All four of them turn towards the door curiously.

And in walks, one of the most beautiful men Tim has ever seen. He has dirty blonde hair, blue eyes, and he has a bit of panic showing in his features. He rushes over their table, chucks his medical bag down near Tim's. The name tag sewn on his jacket reads 'Di Gallo'. When he speaks, he has a strong Italian accent.

  
"Shit, sorry guys, one of the cooks, Shawn almost cut his left wrist off because they're trying to cook up something special for our last day and they're rushing with everything. He had a full-blown breakdown too. It took me a good 15 minutes to take care of him and to find this place. Sorry! Hope I haven't missed a lot!'', he beams at them if a bit nervously.  
Kydd shakes his head, smiling warmly. 

"Welcome t' our unlucky little team, son. We were jus' introducing ourselves, I'm Kydd, the oldest sunovabitch among these babies." 

He squints at them mischievously. Lewis tries to protest "Hey we can't be all hardass sea goers like you, but we are not babies man!" but Stern just puts him in a friendly chokehold and exclaims 'but you _are_ just a baby' while he rubs his head with his knuckles. As they push and shove each other good-naturedly, they resemble a pair of brothers.

"Hey, if you immobilize each other before we land, we will have even less of a chance of winning this shitty war, come on boys."  
After some time, Tim decides to speak up, because honestly, Lewis's face starts to look kinda purple in Stern's 'good-natured' chokehold. As they separate, Lewis mutters an' I'll get back at you for this' under his breath, but Stern just wriggles his eyebrows at him. 

Tim turns to the 'new' Corpsman and Kydd who stand opposite of him. The troublemakers also settle, looking at him expectedly. Time to officially plunge into history, he thinks as he opens his mouth.   
"I'm Timothy Bryan. I'm twenty-five," He decides to go with the truth, " I enlisted because I wanted a sense of purpose. I wanted to save people. And I guess hauling my ass across the world to eventually land on certain death's door seemed fun too."   
The men around him snort at the last line. They all smile at him encouragingly and he even gets a pat in the back from Stern.  
The newcomer is the last one to introduce himself, but they're all just as eager to listen as before.

"Ciao,I'm Luca Fiore Di Gallo, piacere! I'm from good old Brooklyn, New York, and my father served as a sailor in the first war, and I wanted to follow his footsteps. And I always wanted to travel the world. So here we go, huh boys?"

Turns out he is 23 and a Pharmacist's Mate 2nd Class. He offers his hand to Doc Bryan, who tries not to think about how soft the other man's hand is. He tries not to dwell on the fact that he's already kinda crushing on a beautiful stranger and on the fact they might both get hurt badly the next day.  
Di Gallo _beams_ at him, and Tim's negative thoughts shut up. He takes in the past minutes, stores the new knowledge, and swears to try and look out for his partners in the future. They all seem good men, ready and eager to help, but he can't help at the worry building up in his gut. He knows that Corpsman fell like flies in World War II and even if he only just met these men, he has a fondness for them already. 

After they all shake hands, Kydd, suggests that they should do inventory on their supplies and then go through the list of names of H Company. Also, a couple of evac plans to go through can't hurt.  
Tim, only patting his bag the night before, just to see if it was real, realizes what is he about to see. Dated out supplies, things that he has only seen in history books, or during his training.   
When he was completing his Navy Hospital Corpsman training, they conditioned them to every kind of medical supplies, on how to work with them, if there's nothing else but like a medical bag from 1918 for some reason. At that time Tim thought he's more likely to end up as a stripper in Hawaii then having to use supplies from 1942, but here he is. Now he's eternally grateful for paying attention, he wouldn't want to make an ass in front of these men, especially not during battle preparation. 

Their medical bags are a so called Unit 1, a shoulder bag with lots of pouches. Tim desperately wishes he had his backpack from Iraq. Running with these through the jungle, the beaches and the battlefield is going to be a bitch.

The bags contain morphine syrettes,bandages, antibiotics,sulfa packets, plasma and forceps. There is also a so called Corpsman's Knife and sharp scissors. There were also two medical armbands and an Emergency Medical Tag book, which Tim swears to go through later. He knows the basics, he had to learn it back in the day, but it can't hurt. 

While they start to unpack their bags, they throw medical questions back and forth, making sure to go through as many scenarios as they can. As they all do the inventory,they fall into a comfortable chatter about their lives at home, the best way to tie up certain wounds and their thoughts about the upcoming battle. They're almost done -a couple of bandages missing from Di Gallo's bag, from his previous run in with the cook- when a marine C.O walks in, with a crate in his hands. They all stand at attention, as the Captain (apparent by his bars on his collar) makes his way to their table. 

"At ease Corpsmen. I'm just bringing you Docs your pistols. As you all know the Japanese didn't sign the Geneva Convention and they might target you or your injured Marines. They're M1911s and you get 4 magazines. Each magazine has 8 rounds. If for some reason you run out of ammo, all Gunnery Sergeants were given some backup. But let's hope you don't have to use it that much. Good luck, and thanks for volunteering to save our sorry asses!" 

"Aye, skipper! Thank you!" Kydd answers for all of them.

They all echo the 'Aye,skipper!'. The Captain just nods at them, and puts the crate down at their table. He leaves without an other word, probably off to run some errands or have another meeting with the other COs. All five of them exchange looks and then huddle closer to the crate. Kydd and Lewis take off the lid, and there, in front of them are the weapons that could be their last resort when facing the enemy. 

Tim is the first one to reach for a pistol, quick hands checking the safety; the magazine. It's empty, as he suspected. He picks up a mag, loads it, and puts the safety on again. He takes three other mags and puts them in the pouches of his bag, closest to his hips. The pistol finds its way into a holster, that goes over his shoulders, and hangs near his ribs for quick access. The rest follow his example, and after a couple of minutes they're all ready. As they stand there, each of them geared up, Tim can't help but think how he would sell everything for a bunch of flak jackets. Seeing their thin uniform jackets and knowing nothing will stop a well aimed bullet or mortar, his heart clenches.

Worry closes around his throat again.He knows their chances are bad, but he hopes to see these men again. 

"Well, I think we are done here. Good to meet you all. Try to stay alive tomorrow, I still want to see your ugly mugs later!", he says, trying to sound less scared then he feels. He's doing a shitty job tho, because he sounds hoarse and emotional even to his own ears. The others don't seem to mind though because they all smile at him, if a bit sad, but encouraging. Tim is pretty sure Lewis has tears shining in his eyes too. Kydd puts his medical bag on his shoulders and offers his hand to Tim. 

"Good luck out there,bud. Y'all are strong motherfuckers and I bet my ass we will meet on that shitty island again, hey. Here's some advice:run fast and don't lose hope." 

As they shake hands, Kydd sends him a reassuring smile. 

"Aye, sir." Tim answers. Lets go of Kydd's hand. He shakes hands with Stern, gives a hug to Lewis, whose tears stain his jacket collar. He turns to Di Gallo, who has a careful expression on his face. Tim offers him his hand too, but the man surprisingly pulls him into a one armed hug. He feels his stomach doing a salto. Di Gallo- _Luca_ \- lets go first, blue eyes kind,steady. His expression changes, eyes crinkling. He laughs, "Sorry, I got emotional. Stay safe!" He pats Tim in the arm one more time, and offers the same hugs to the others. Kydd even lifts him up off the floor, eloping him into a bear hug. 

When they're done, they put the crate in a corner and leave the room. Off they go, to find their units, all on their separate ways but with the knowledge that they have a solid group of people behind them, in case there's trouble. 

Tim, hopeful but still weary, makes his way to his barracks. He promised to meet with Leckie and the others before lunch, to catch up and to ease their minds a bit. He also knows there's ought to be some gossip about the other Marines or the campaign or the higher ups. As he climbs the stairs, he promises himself to save as many of these men as he can. Goddamn, he will try at least.

*

**August 7th,Guadalcanal,1942**

The siren blaring above them signals the time to get into the LVts. It's a nightmare, a chaos, every CO yelling, everyone securing their bags and weapons. Tim vaguely remembers that when they did these drills at the Navy he was calm, collected,focused. No he has his heart in his throat, but he grits his teeth and forces himself to focus on the others. He stands in line, gets into the landing vehicle. He sees the H Company boys next to him, which he is grateful for. Runner sends him an anxious smile. Sid looks pale, Hoosier has a neutral expression on his face. He can't see Gibson, he is several ros in front of him, but he nods at Leckie. 

Here we go, he thinks, as the doors open up, and the LVT hits water. Anxiety fogs his mid and he prays to anyone willing to listen that they make it out alive.

*

To everyone's utter surprise, there is no resistance when they land. There is a group of marines, from the 5th Marine Regiment, casually welcoming them.

Doc is so happy he wants to cry. Every bloody,nightmarish scenario he came up with disappears, as he walks among the men, into the jungle. 

But of course, _of course_ it isn't as easy as he hopes. On their way to the Tenaru River, they come across some brutally maimed Marines. They have so much blood around them that Doc doesn't even check their pulse. They are obviously dead. 

He hears Leckie say 'Goddamned bastards' as he walks past the corpses. They walk through the jungle with weary expressions, ducking to the ground at every suspicious noise. Everyone is on high alert. They walk until Capt. Jameson -the man who gave them the pistols, Doc realizes- tells them to dig in for the rest of the day. They will march more tomorrow. 

As he makes rounds, checking on the Marines he sees Stern wrapping gauze at a marine's leg. They nod at each other, Stern offers him a quick smile. Tim returns it just as quickly. 

He makes his way back towards his foxhole, when he hears Lewis's voice, telling Leckie and Chuckler that the coconuts could be poisoned. He suppresses an eye-roll, feeling that's a bit too paranoid. Then he hears a marine curse loudly in pain, and he sees Lewis skipping away to help him. After he makes it to the group of troublemakers, he hears them snicker as Chuckler tries to unsuccessfully crack the coconut. When they see him, they greet him warmly. 

"Ay, Doc, good to see ya'!" Gibson practically yells as he slumps down next to their group. Hoosier offers him a cigarette, which he gladly takes.

Doc is starting to feel a bit more welcome within their little group, with every encounter. As they shoot the shit and smoke, enjoying the bit of rest, Doc starts to feel hopeful again. 

_Maybe it's not going to be that bad_ , he muses, as he laughs at Leckie's and Hoosier's bullshit stories. 

After the skipper tells them the password and orders them to catch some shut-eye, after a day of anxiety and walking through the thick jungle, he falls asleep quickly. 

He wakes to gunfire and yelling. He's so disoriented he thinks he's in Iraq, in the middle of a surprise drill. When he sees the jungle around him, he snaps back to reality. He waits, waiting for someone to tell for a Corpsman, his heart in his throat.

And then :

"CEASEFIRE!"

 _"Ceasefire_ goddam!! It's _Doc_!!" 

For a split second, he is confused.

 _But I'm fine,_ he thinks.

Then his stomach turns. Someone shot one of his partners.

_Fuck. No, no, no._

He rushes out of his foxhole, fully awake. He hears the marines curse, he even hears a couple of sobs. He makes his way to the only body on the ground.

It's Lewis, poor, young, so full of life Lewis. He has a dozen bullet wounds and he's already dead. There's no point in getting any sulfa out, Doc bitterly thinks. Suddenly he's so angry he wants to scream. He lets out a loud 'Fuck!' and he sees the marines around him wince. 

"Trigger happy motherfuckers!" He yells at noone in particular. He knows that they are scared and they operated by the books, but it doesn't make him less angry. He hears someone's boots behind him, as he drops next to the lifeless body, to collect the identification tags. He unclips one of the tags and closes Lewis's eyelids.

He grits his teeth. Stands up. Turns to the skipper, who in the meantime made his way up to them. Slaps the tag into his palm. No one dares to speak around them.

The Captain looks at him with shame and sadness.

He is so _so angry,_ he knows it must show on his face. 

The sun is climbing up on the sky already, making the horrible situation even more grotesque. A Navy Hospital Corpsman, killed by friendly fire, lying dead on the ground, while a beautiful sun rises. 

A hand falls on his shoulders. He wants to snap at whoever it is, but he stops his spiteful remark when he sees its Di Gallo, with two shovels. His expression is closed off, but Tim can see his own anger reflected in his eyes. They nod, Tim takes one of the shovels and they start digging.

A grave.

For their friend, their partner, who they barely knew. It still feels like losing a brother. It feels like losing a part of himself. 

As the sun bathes them in orange, he can't help but think that this is the first grave he dug for a friend. And he knows it won't be the last.

_*_

In the next months his life falls into a rigid pattern. He stitches marines up. He pulls men up when they fall. He runs through enemy fire. He carries stretchers, yells for evacuation, curses.

He collects so many dog tags he loses count.

He gets shot in the arm, stitches himself together, while Philips next to him shakes like a leaf after a close encounter with the Japanese. Hoosier watches him with equal parts of disgust and admiration, as he closes his wound. 

"Jesus Christ Doc, you are one tough son of a bitch!"

"Please don't talk about my mother like that, Corporal!"he jokes, finally done. He discards the bloody cotton he used to dry up the blood and turns to the men around him. 

They're on a clearing, their ears still ringing a bit. Chuckler, a Corporal now, earning his commission during the Battle of Tenaru, is making sure his team is hydrated.

He offers everyone his canteen, and Doc can't help but think of Rudy. Him and Chuckler both have mother hen attitudes towards their fellow marines, accompanied by a kind smile. Doc severely misses the Bravo boys, but he's growing fond of the How Company men too.

While Runner lights up two cigarettes, passing one to Doc and keeping the other to himself, Tim moves to check on Leckie's leg. 

They're all shoving the signs of trench foot, with all the marching and days spent holed up in muddy foxholes. They don't complain as Doc fusses over them, but he knows they must be tired of all of this. Hell, everyone is so tired.

There are days when Tim doesn't sleep, he works so much, and he feels so worn out he's starting to doubt he'll make it to the end of the campaign. He knows the other Docs are no better off and that worries him even more. 

After the death of Lewis, and the blowing up of the other Corpsman from I Company, they try and check up on each other daily. Stern is currently across the clearing from Tim and Leckie, bandaging up Lt. Corrigan. He doesn't see Kydd, but hears his southern drawl ' _Ya motherfucker better stay off ya' freshly stitched foot or I'll wring yo' ass'_ and he can't help but smirk. 

He doesn't see or hear Di Gallo, and he tries to swallow the worry in his gut. As he takes the bandage off of Leckie's foot to replace it with a new one, he hears the others go 'Hiya Doc!'. He looks up, sees Doc Di Gallo a few steps away from them. 

_Speak of the devil and he shall appear._

"Hiya boys, how are you holding up? Bryan I saw you take a bullet to the arm, you okay?" worry apparent in his voice, his accent a bit thicker than normal. He crouches down next to them, just a touch away.

Before Tim can answer, Hoosier speaks up, '' Yeah, he just stitched himself up, he is a fucking badass ''. Tim can feel the tips of his ears burning, thankfully hidden underneath a bandana Leckie looted from an other marine. It's as green as their uniform, and Doc feels a bit closer to himself when he puts it on. He prefers it to their ugly ass soft covers anyway. 

Doc Di Gallo just squints at him and the bandage peeking out from underneath his ragged ass,dirty white shirt and nods. He rakes his eyes across Tim's body as if looking for more wounds or bandages. Tim feels like his stare is a laser beam, scorching his skin up. He shifts, turning his eyes back to Leckie's leg, praying the others don't notice the back of his neck burning up. 

While he bandages Leckie up, Tim tries to make his nerves calmer by asking, "So how are the others? Any news on the morphine supplies?".

Leckie and the others look a bit confused, but Luca just shakes his head. 

" _No,_ still nothing but Kydd said he'll keep pushing for the supplies. I think the radio men are sick of his voice already, but what can you do?" He adds a couple of curse words in italian and they sound sharp and music like. Doc already learned a handful of them, hearing them so frequently in the past months. A smile breaks out in his face as he listens to his partner cuss up a storm.

"Yeah Marines make do Doc. Well in your case _Corpsmen_ make do! But you get it. We are fucked." Chuckler offers. Bryan just shrugs.

"Yeah like a tied goat, even." 

Everyone groans at his shitty metaphor, poor Sid looking scandalized. Doc Di Gallo just snorts and steals Tim's half burnt down cigarette. He takes a lazy, long drag and puts it back to Tim's slightly agape mouth. He is so shocked by the easy gesture the smoke almost falls from his lips. Di Gallo just smirks at him, pats him on the arm and stands up. 

"Well boys, duty calls. Stay safe and get some shuteye, will ya Doc. Corpsman's orders! Not that you'd need any more beauty sleep, but you look like you could use a nap." With this, he quickly walks away, a new spring in his steps. Tim can't help but stare after him. His company snickers, letting out a few wolf whistles. He knows his face is bright red now.

"Uh oh, someone has a crush on _yoooou_ Doc." Runner has a smirk in his voice. 

Doc, having his mouth occupied with his smoke, and his arms with his medical bag just shoots him a dirty look. The tought that Di Gallo has a crush on him sounds ridiculous. The crush is _one sided_ and he's willing to bet that Runner is just taking the piss outta him.

To his surprise Sid chimes in next. He looks too serious to be joking.

"Yeah, he looked very worried when you took that bullet. He almost jumped outta cover, Sergeant Zeke had to pull him back in." Chuckler and Leckie just nod in agreement. 

They change the subject seeing Doc is lost in his thoughts and decide to listen to Leckie's "letter" to Vera.

The skipper tells them they are Oscar Mike, and as they gather their stuff Sid reads a letter he got from his best friend. It is a heartfelt letter and Doc wonders if this Eugene saw them know, would he recognize his best friend. 

They all look worn out, older, dirty and on edge. All tell tale signs of war. Their faces, hair and clothes are dirty, and they are getting skinnier by the day. They smoke too much and curse even more. They changed a lot from the men Tim first met on the USS. 

It turns out Sid had his eighteen birthday weeks ago, and Hoosier starts a variation of 'Happy Birthday' as they make their way into the jungle. It -of course- ends in a word of profanities and Tim laughs despite himself. 

**February,1943, Guadalcanal**

Despite surviving the bonsai charges and the piling japanese soldiers bodies around them, they don't feel like they're winning. The Japanese Navy shells the beaches, the US Navy and their entire OP. 

Everyone but mostly the Corpsmen are fed up with the constant stress and the endless body toll. Put malaria and jungle rot in the mix and you have the perfect recipe for a mental breakdown. 

But in the meantime, the different marine divisions are winning battles and taking airfields.

It's both horrible and amazing.

Tim hears that several people are promoted, even him, Stern and Di Gallo earn battlefield commissions for their quick and efficient work.

He hears through company gossip that a Lieutenant nicknamed 'Ack-Ack' from K Company took out a machine gun nest and saved the lives of 6 of his men. There is also the word going around that a Sergeant from I Company held his line through six bonsai attacks with barely enough ammo and they didn't lose a single man, only took some hits. Tim hears the man is named Jones, and thinks of the cury-haired sergeant he met on top of deck.

He hopes it's true and that the kind marine made it through this hell. He would like to share a smoke with the man, he's still grateful for the pep talk and the good company.

He misses his family. He misses Bravo. He misses his friends.

He barely sees Stern and Kydd these days. They're all in different parts of the AO and Tim is on his last nerve. He misses their company and he worries about them. Corpsmen are dropping like flies, and every time someone yells for him, he thinks it might be for one of them. 

The only person he constantly sees is Luca _fucking gorgeous_ Di Gallo. He is like a personification of sunshine in this hellhole. They share coffee and cigarettes when they have a free second. They make up bullshit scenarios about where their so needed medical supplies disappear between the battalion XO and their outpost. They share childhood stories and bootcamp anecdotes. He quickly becomes one of Tim's best friends. It also doesn't help his developing crush that the man seems to enjoy his company as well, and he always laughs at his sarcastic remarks about command.

Runner comes down with the runs and Tim is like an honest to God mother hen. He checks up on his men and they keep each others spirits up. They start to become a little family, and Bryan is eternally grateful for these bunch of amazing troublemakers. They are compassionate, caring and kind. They know the dirtiest jokes, and Leckie can quote almost any book. Hoosier and Runner are quick as a whip with their sarcastic remarks, leaving him breathless with laughter. Sid is kind, _still_ , but now he has a newfound maturity in him. Gibson is a rather quiet part of their group, ever present. Tim thinks the war is slowly getting to him, and he mentally takes note to send him to medical leave as soon as he can.

While Runner is down with the runs - ironically - and Doc tries to scrounge up some meds with Chuckler's help, the rest of them go and loot an army camp stationed near. They steal cans of peaches, cigars and cookies. Before Doc can warn them, Leckie is chugging the juice of the fruit like it's manna from the gods. 

Doc just sits back and sighs, knowing how it ends when you drink sugar forthe first time after months of army rations and starvation. As Leckie pukes his guts out while Runner is still stuck on the latrine, laughing his head off, the others munching more cautiously on the peaches, his heart swells with _love_ for these idiots. 

He realizes he'd do anything for them. And he knows they'd do anything for him, without any questions asked.

The shelling they have to endure one spring day is the worst thing Tim has experienced in his entire life. In the morning, everyone is shellshocked and the carnage is unbearable. As they emerge from their cluttered and shelled to nothing foxholes, Tim loses his last bit of hope. Thankfully his team is alive, but lots of the others weren't this lucky. 

He collects more dog tags. Thinks of all the families and mothers,fathers, siblings that belong to each men.

When Lt. Corrigan tells them they are being relieved by an other regiment and they are going to Melbourne for rest, he has to do a double take. He is so done that Leckie and Chuckler have to convince him that yes _'this is real, we are finally off this fucking island Doc.'_

And as he makes his way up the ropes of the deck, he can't help but think that this is just the beginning. At the moment he hates that he knows history, hates that he knows they will probably suffer more. But at least they survived Guadalcanal. 

They get coffee from a tired looking cook, who looks at them in awe. As the caffeine burns his tongue, Tim feels more alive than ever before. 

The USS is on its way to Australia, a safe haven for the battered marines. Doc falls asleep on Sid's shoulders and doesn't wake up until they reach port 10 hours later.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I kinda imagined 'Doc' Di Gallo as Luca Marinelli :) and lol i just realized i didn't change the name fml.


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Melbourne.Two legendary Gunnery Sergeants. Drunken conversations about love. King Company getting a new machine gunner squad. Pining. A bunch of boots. Training shenanigans. A speech about the japanese soldier.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *me slapping this fic's roof* : this bad boy can fit so many otps and pining in it 
> 
> ty for the read and i hope you all enjoy it

_'I loved you long before I had the guts to let you know.'_

_William Chapman_

**March 4th,1943,Melbourne**

Captain Andrew Haldane was awake in his tent, at 0430 with a fresh cup of coffee in one hand, and a roster list about his new company in the other. He just got back from Battalion HQ, they debriefed him about his expectations and skills and then handed him the paper. It was important, he knew that whoever was on the list, they will be his companion in the next battle, in the next months, maybe years. He wanted to prepare himself, to expect nothing special, but he wanted good leaders by his side. As he sips from his still-warm mug, he takes a look at the paper in his hand.

When he sees the first three names listed as his officers, he almost spits his coffee all over the list.

_Edward A. Jones, First Lieutenant_

_John Basilone, Gunnery Sergeant_

_Elmo Haney, Gunnery Sergeant_

The rest of the list was just as impressive, full of competent NCOs, still, Andy can't help but wonder at his luck.

He literally got the _best men_ as his company officers. 

He remembers standing at attention just a few days ago as John Basilone received his Medal of Honor. He felt dead tired, but still somehow proud at this (back then) unknown Marine, who stood proud and tall as the General put the medal around his neck. Andy always thought that after the Hell they all have been through in Guadalcanal, after all the men they lost and the horrors they've seen, it is refreshing to see some of the men receive recognition for it. He heard crazy rumors about Basilone running barefoot to supply his men with ammo, and there was a rather bloody story about him and a bunch of Japanese soldiers and a machete. He also heard that the man refused to go on a war bond promoting the tour, basically telling his superiors that they can ' _go and fuck themselves because his place is among the men, Medal of Honor or not'_. At least that's what Lieutenant Greyson told him while they were on their way to the HQ, face lighting up as he told Andy the newest scuttlebutt.

Honestly, the marines were gossiper than a bunch of aunties at a wedding. And it's not like Andy actively listens in to these gossips, they just reach him. But it gives him insight about the men he will have to deal with, so he doesn't mind.

He also knows from one of his Sergeants that Gunny Haney can put the fear of God into any Marine on deck. He doesn't doubt that, as it is a known fact that the Gunnery Sergeant has been a Marine before most of them were even born. All of the men he heard talking about Haney have talked about him with respect and admiration, and a bit of fear. There's a rumor going around that he's a tad bit crazy and that he can make even the most seasoned veterans quiver.

He can't wait to meet the man face to face.

While he feels kind of out of place to give orders to these seagoing marines, who have been in the Corps long before he enlisted, he hopes they will take him seriously.

But through it all, he is the most excited to meet Lieutenant Jones, again.

He saw the man in Guadalcanal, and he was rendered speechless by - then just a Sergeant - Jones's calm determination, even in the face of the bonsai attacks. The I Company Sergeant was stationed right next to Andy and his team for a while. When the Lieutenant in charge of I Co. went into a shell shock after one of the bullets grazed him, Sgt. Jones took over as the leader of the platoon and dipped into the inky black night, with the determination to keep his men on the line. Andy heard his hushed voice, as he gave out orders and kept the spirits of the terrified men up. He was the calming presence the agitated men needed to face the other charge, while their officers were away or taken off the line. He was like a beacon of hope and reassurance that they will be fine. 

While the Sergeant gave out ammo and quickly discussed tactic, as the enemy tracers lit up the sky, Andy thought, ' _If every company had officers like him, we'd win this war in months_.' As he calmed his own men and readied himself for the battle, with his heart in his guts, he felt someone clap him on the shoulder. 

It was the Sergeant, who just smiled at him reassuringly and Andy felt a bit more at peace. The man in front of him nodded and offered him a tiny salute. 

'Lieutenant! I'm Sergeant Jones, good to see ya', sir. Joy Company fucked up and they're on the other end of the line. Captain Simmons told me to hook up with you guys, we have three gunner squads and the others are tough sons of bitches on the Springfields. We will smoke these s.o.b.s, sir.' With another pat on the back, he disappears into the company of his own men, leaving Andy to his thoughts. During the battle he hears the man yell orders, encouragements at his men and some 'die already ya' bastard!' s at the enemy. When it is all over, he sees Sgt. Jones calming a shocked Private, who had his helmet shot off his head. Andy winced back then, it would have been a fatal shot, if not for the armor. He saw Sgt. Jones gives up his on the helmet to the Private, who looked at his NCO with awe. Jones just smiled at his man, and went on, to check up on the rest of his guys, now soft curls visible on his head. 

After the battle, Andy sought out the commanding officer of I Company and told him about the selfless Sergeant he came across. He suggested a battlefield commission. He hoped it will make it through and Jones can do even more good to the men from a better position. God knows the Marines needed more competent officers.

He didn't expect the man to end up as his First Lieutenant, let alone his aide. He finds he is as excited as nervous.

When he got promoted after taking out that machine gun nest - which earned him the nickname ' _Ack-Ack_ ' among his men - he thought he will be just left alone to work as the other Captain in K. He didn't expect that HQ would 'give' him the K/3/5 to assemble and lead. 

But here he was, with a list of old and new officers, a bunch of veteran marines, and sooner or later in the week, the replacements will arrive. 

As he reads through the rest of the list, he tried to commit each name to memory. He takes a look at his watch, which now reads 5000. 

'Shit!' he thinks. The first meeting with the new company COs and NCOs will be at 1900. He has paperwork and names to get through. He can't wait to meet _his men._

*

After they got off the USS, the Marines were led into a stadium, where the bleachers acted as makeshift beds. Hoosier slumped down on one of them and with a 'To hell with this, I'm going to sleep for a couple of days!', passed out. Tim couldn't blame him. He slumped down on another 'bed' and closed his eyes. The cadence of the marines yells, insults, and questions around him lulled him to sleep. It was a lullaby he had gotten used to, and he was out in seconds. He felt someone, probably Chuckler, pull a blanket around his shoulders before he drifted off.

He woke up to asshole MPs and the sound of trumpets blaring from the speakers overhead.

He felt ready to kill someone. He tried to glare as menacingly at the assholes responsible as he could. Some of them gulped nervously when they met his gaze, but Lt.Corrigan ordered him to stand at attention so he had to give it up. When a poor marine fell face-first into the grass, he dismissed them. 

That was three days ago. So far they are given liberty to roam the city and to socialize. Some of the men already have dates with the local ladies or here stationed nurses.

But most of the men just drink. He can't blame them, even if he doesn't take part in the heavy drinking some of them took up. 

The _Corpsman_ part of his brain doesn't let him lose focus, he is always alert, in case one of the men need quick assistance. For example, yesterday a Private drunkenly stumbled into a lamp post and Doc had to stitch one of his eyebrows back together. The Private most likely will tell the dames at the next bar he stumbles into tonight, that it's a wound from the war. Tim supposes, as long as he doesn't have to treat more serious injuries in the future, this is as close to rest as he can get.

The H Co. boys try to get him into drinking yesterday by dragging him out to a bar-hopping tour in the heart of Melbourne.

He gets halfway through a beer when some asshole local tries to rile up Hoosier for a bar fight. Of course, he didn't need to be asked twice so the marine is up in the man's face, ready for a brawl. The others are anxious too, Chuckler ready to make peace, halfway out of his chair; Runner glaring angrily at the other man, knuckles white around his glass; Leckie with a murderous expression on his face, standing just a feet away behind Hoosier. Sid is in the bathroom and Tim started to think it's for the best, as the other man's buddies started to gather around them slowly.

' _This shit won't stand_ ' he thinks as he drowns the rest of his beer with a swift movement. He catches Runner's curious eyes as he moves to stand.

Tim- trying to keep his little found family out of trouble - pushes his chair back, stands up, and walks in front of Hoosier. The man, who was all about how he could take any Marine out with a punch, bragging about his left hook, visibly loses his cocky smirk when he sees Tim tower above him. 

'You might take out a _Marine_ with one left hook, _mate,_ but I'm a Navy Corpsman and if you don't want to get seriously fucked up by a sailor, I suggest you and your buddies leave _my marines_ alone.'

Tim warns, voice low, shoulders squared. Being a couple of inches taller than the men around him he has an advantage. And also being a SARC and FMF trained _Recon_ Corpsman he had the upper hand in any type of fight. He could take the men in front of him out in a matter of minutes.

And he was prone to bar fights when he was younger, anger still bubbling in his veins, untamed, like hot lava. The main reason he joined the Navy - although he didn't tell this to a lot of people - was that he needed an outlet for his ever-present anger at the world. He hated feeling useless and always angry and being unable to help, so he joined. At first, he considered enlisting to the SEALs but when his Drill Sergeant suggested that he would make a great Corpsman, he took the chance.

And fell in love with it. 

He gets to keep his men safe and relatively healthy _and_ have the best training available _and_ still fuck some people up if needed? It felt like this is what he's supposed to be doing with his life. 

And when some asshole who is probably too drunk at 6 in the afternoon to be challenging a Marine and a Corpsman freshly out of Guadalcanal, he is even happier to be able to put a man in his place. 

The guy in question snorts, confidence boosted by the booze in his system and the audience that slowly gathered around them. He cocks his head to the side, squares his shoulders, and takes a step towards Tim. 

'Bring it on _sailor._ You and your pussy ass marine friend can get the fuck out of this bar before we throw you all out.' he spits, his friends gathering behind him. Tim feels Hoosier tense up behind him, felt the shift in the air as the marine curled his hands into fists. 

The odds are against them. It's 5 against 2, Tim hoping Leckie and Runner stay out of the fight.

But none of them knew what Tim was capable of and he was about to prove this asshole so _so_ wrong.

As a fist flies towards his face, he welcomes the rush of adrenaline of the upcoming fight with glee. He steps aside and sends the man stumbling to the floor. His buddies took it as an offense, and two of them move to take aim at Tim. He knows he has to pull his punches, but he still feels satisfied after a well-aimed right hook. He gets hit in the stomach but recovers with an uppercut.

He hears Runner yell a 'Yes, go Doc!! Holy shit!' 

After he made the first punch, Hoosier got right next to Tim and fought with apparent anger simmering in his eyes. They make a great team, Hoos and Tim, they fight with consideration towards each other, helping the other up. The five men were getting sloppy but angrier by the minute. 

After Hoosier took a first to the side of his jaw, he stumbled into a chair. Tim gets so incredibly angry that he knocks the man who hit Hoosier out. Hoosier spits some blood to the ground and takes Tim's offered hand, to pull himself on his feet. 

They had two men on the floor, and Tim was just about to be hit with an empty beer bottle - and he was seriously considering putting the man in question into a chokehold with a move he learned from Rudy - when another man appears in his field of vision. 

He is sporting marine dungarees and he has the physical appearance of a boxer. And when he takes the man with the bottle out with one punch, Tim wonders if he _was_ a boxer. He sends a grateful nod towards the new man, who just beames at him and readies himself in case more people want to join the brawl.

When one of the two men standing made a charge at Tim, he simply took a step aside and pushed the men to the ground, next to his buddies. 

That left one of the assholes against the two marines and Tim. And by the heavy breathing and low curses from the floor, Tim thought the fight came to an end. The last man standing took one look at his buddies, then at Tim, the other Marine and a slightly panting but very much on his feet Hoosier and just raised his hands in surrender. 

The owner of the place chose this moment to emerge from the sea of the audience and told them that if they don't leave immediately he will call the MPs on their asses. 

Hoosier makes his dislike known by spiting a good chunk of blood to the ground - which seems to anger the owner, even more, but made the team snicker as they rushed outside. 

In the meantime, Sid got back from the toilet and the new, boxer champion marine joined their little team. The six of them made their way over to a little bench, so Doc could treat his and Hoosier's wounds and they could calm down a little.

As Tim pulls gauze out of one of his pockets to wrap Hoosiers knuckles, the man speaks up, 

'Those were some impressive punches Doc! I think I haven't seen a corpsman this vicious in a fight before! Man, why aren't you a Marine, you'd take on the enemy with a brass knuckle and come out on top!'.

Doc just snorts at the praise of the black haired Marine and focuses on cleaning Hoosier's hand. It was, surprisingly Leckie, who answered the unknown Marine, 

'Yeah, but he has to keep us assholes out of danger and in good health so we don't kick the bucket before the war is over. Also, he's the only one to keep Chuckler from killing us because of our hubris and the Doc went through FMF already. So don't you go and borrow trouble now by sending him away from us, will you Gunny?' 

The air froze for a minute. Leckie has always been the most observant, besides Tim, so it was no wonder he recognized the man immediately. And as Tim looks up from Hoosier's hand, to take in the man in front of him, his brain freezes.

He saw this man in history textbooks and heard Gunny Wynn go on about how one day he'd like to be half as good of a Gunnery Sergeant as him. He had his own shrine at Pendleton. He was a legend among the Marines. His tactic on how to destroy enemy machine gun nests is still taught in Pendleton.

As the sun mercilessly shines down on them, Tim Bryan meets the gaze of no one else but John _fucking_ Basilone. 

He is face to face with one of the most respected Marines in _history_. And he was complimenting _him._

Like a flash of lightning, a thought occurrs to Tim.

' _Am I changing history by talking to John Basilone? Can I help him? Can I save him? Can I save any of them? Is this real?'_

'John Basilone freshly minted Gunnery Sergeant, nice meet you Marines. And Corpsman.'

He smiles at them and snickers at Chuckler, who has his mouth agape. Sid and Runner stare at the man with pure awe on their face. Leckie has a smug smirk, whereas Hoosier looks more occupied by his throbbing jaw and fists. Basilone takes a look at his watch and curses lightly. Salutes at them and runs off with an' I'm gonna be _so_ late, the first meeting with the Skipper, agh...' He let's out a colorful string of Italian curse words as he bypasses the people roaming the street.

Sid lets out a heartfelt 'What the Fuck?' as they watch the Gunny run towards the stadium.

*

It's 1857 Andrew Haldane is standing in front of two out of the three Marines he's going to have as his most trusted men. Lieutenant Edward Jones, who shakes Andy's hand and tells him to ' _Just call me Eddie or Hillbilly, Skipper! Good to see you again, sir!_ ', gives him a warm smile. Andy smiles back with what feels like an army of butterflies in his stomach.

He turns to the older man, Elmo 'Gunny' Haney, who - surprisingly draws him into a bear hug, which squeezes the air out of his lungs. As they let go, Gunny pats him firmly on the shoulders. 

'Aye, Skipper, good to meet ya'! Damn son, we don't need to make you do any PT, they don't call you Ack-Ack for anything! The boots are gonna shit themselves, you got some shoulders! Were you a mortar man? You look like you've been firing bazookas since the day you were born, son.'

Andy feels his ears turn hot and he can hear Lt. Jones snort, then say 'God damn Gunny, try not to feel up the skipper before we have the chance to get to know him!' and Andy might be a bit hopeful, but it seems Eddie takes his time to sneak an appreciative glance at Andy's shoulders. He unconsciously straightens his posture and as he takes time to assure Gunny that he will still run PT if he can with the men, and no, he wasn't a mortar men. They pass some time talking about Guadalcanal, possible platoon leaders and other setups.

They are still waiting for John Basilone, who seems to be taking his sweet time showing up. As Andy's watch sneaks to show 1859, the entrance of his tent bursts open. 

In comes, a man, who's obviously been running like a mad man and Andy can't help but smile at his panicked face. He takes in the disheveled recipient of Medal of Honor in front of him, who seems like ran all the way from God knows where to his tent. 

_'Che cazzo!_ Sir, excuse me, Skipper, uh sir, I got into a bar fight,' he pulls a face at this, corrects himself, ' I mean I got some of our Marines and a Corpsman finish a bar fight, sir. Some of the locals are assholes!'. 

He makes an outrageous face, takes a breath, calms down. He squares his shoulders, pushes his wind swept hair out of his forehead and stands at attention. Andy pretends to not see the bruise on the his left hand. Haney and Jones watch ith amusement as he takes a step towards Basilone, offers him his hand. 

'Andrew Haldane, nice to finally meet you Gunnery Sergeant. As you probably heard from the higher-ups, I'm the Captain of K/3/5, most of the men are veterans but we will have the boots arriving someday during the week. Our Company has to be ready for the next landing, and I'm sure you two will prepare them well.'

He nods towards Haney, who looks serious and ready to do anything Andy asks him to do. He likes the man immediately. Basilone looks at the older Gunny too, let's a small smile cross his face. 

'I'd like you and Gunnery Sergeant Haney to prepare the replacements as good as you can, and to get our old breed back into shape. Me and Lieutenant Jones will make sure everything is in order for when we ship out. I need _my_ Company to be in the best shape possible. I don't want my men to go against the japanese unprepared.' 

'Oohrah, skipper! We will get them little bastards into shape!'

Haney exclaims, and he and Basilone seem to get into a silent conversation with only their eyebrows and facial expressions. They must get into some sort of mutual agreement as after a few seconds, they both have wide grins on their face. 

He looks for Lieutenant Jones and finds that the man is already looking at him. He has a small, barely visible smile and he cocks an eyebrow at Andy as if to ask ' _Can you believe these two?'_. 

Andy just shakes his head in an ' _I hope our Marines don't after the first week with the Gunners'._

Jones seems to understand him, and full-on smiles at him and Andy knows that he hit gold with these men. 

As they start to go over the list of Marines, Corpsmen, and replacements they will have to gather, Andy can't help but feel invincible with these three by his side.

*

As Tim makes his way across the field of grass of the stadium, at 2200 from a quick catch up with Stern, he spots a familiar-looking marine. The man is smoking, sitting on a box in front of a supply tent. Tim recognizes Seargeant - or by the bar on his collar, now Lieutenant Jones. At the sound of approaching boots, he jumps up. Takes in Tim in front of him, his gaze lingering at his face, at his bruised knuckles. Beams at him and starts to excitedly say,

'Holy _shit,_ Doc! Good to see you! I heard some rumors about the Japanese blowing up Pharmacist's Mates and I hoped you made it back safe!' 

He pulls a cigarette out of his pack, lights it with his own, and passes it to Doc. 

'I still owe you a couple of smokes! And stories!' 

Tim takes it, takes in the easy smile on the Lieutenant's face, and knows that the feeling of trust and friendship are mutual. 

'I also heard a Sergeant from I Company saving a bunch of his man from the bonsai attacks _and_ managing to impress some higher-ups enough to promote him to a Lieutenant. Know anything about that Jones?' he asks, smirking around his cigarette. 

The lieutenant turns slightly pink and shakes his head. 

'Come on Bryan, let's grab a beer! We have to catch up. And I heard about a bar fight involving a Corpsman and some marines, from Gunny Basilone, you wouldn't know anything about that would ya'?' 

As they make their way out of the stadium, they fall into an easy rhythm, making their way towards a near pub. As they step into the bar, air filled with smoke and laughter, Doc is glad to be here and now. As the Lt. ' _Goddamn, just call me Hillbilly Doc, we are in for a long night!'_ he feels that if the Universe or some grand deity wanted him to have a few beers with some of the best marines he's ever met, in Melbourne, he might as well enjoy it while it lasts. 

Hours later, when they caught up with their different stories about the 'canal, their promotions, the companies and the marines, Tim has one of Hillbilly's hand thrown around his neck. They are making their way back to camp, and it wouldn't be difficult, but they are both drunker than Tim expected. Hillbilly is just about done with his rant about command, when he suddenly plants his feet firmly and looks at Tim. 

'Listen, Bryan. Listen. The King Company skipper. He is - he hiccups-, he is god damned unbelievable!' He says it with so much seriousness that Tim sobers up a bit. He carefully asks, 

'Why, is he bothering you? You are his aide no? Need me to -hiccup- threaten him?'

'No. _No._ He's just so fucking _beautiful_ , fuck man. How can someone be this handsome, I don't fucking know?' 

'Oh. _Oh._ ' 

Tim is at loss of words.He of course knew that a lot of men in the army liked men, himself included, but he didn't expect the LT to open up to him so freely. He knows its probably the alcohol letting the man talk so freely, but he can't help and feel affectionate about the trust towards him. He turns to face Hillbilly, who squints at him, 

' _Shit,,_ did I just say that out loud? Fuck. Oh no! Fuck me!' 

'I think you want someone else to do that, LT.' Doc snickers. 

Jones just jabs him in the side and then looks at him, eyes considerate. In a low voice, barely a whisper, he says, 

'Can't help but wonder why haven't you threatened to punch my lights out or write me up for a Section 8 Doc.' He sounds serious. Doc's heart breaks a little. He really wants to go up to the officers responsible, and shut down the Section 8 protocol, or the DADT before it can happen.

'Would be kind of stupid. King Co. would lose their best Lt. Not to mention I'm not a hypocrite. Your secret is safe with me.' 

Eddie's eyes go wide. 

'Hypocrite...? Doc you...?-'

'Always liked men just as much as dames. Fuck, have you seen some of the sailors? Couldn't ignore them if I wanted to.' Doc explains in a low voice as they continue their way back to base. 

' _Holy shit!_ Holy shit Doc. This is amazing! You are my new best friend' Jones snorts, calming down a bit. His eyes gleam with mischief as he asks, 

'Soo, dear Corpsman, do you have your eyes on anyone at the moment? A marine? A dame from the city? A _sailor?_ Anyone?' 

As he ponders, Doc can feel his face flush. Jones has the actual nerve to giggle. 

'Oooh, who is it!! Come on _Doc_ I told you mine, you tell me yours! Actually, Lieutenant's orders.' 

'That's an abuse of power, sir, _fuck you,_ sir.' but Tim is smirking and Jones just laughs louder.

'Come on man! Spill it!' 

'It's....' he takes a deep breath. This is the first time he dares himself to say it aloud.

'It's an other Corpsman. His name is Di Gallo.'

'Ooooh, star crossed lovers! He is the _beautiful_ man with the blueish eyes no? I saw him help one of my men the other day! He was kind and patient.You _go_ man!' he whistles. 

Tim can't help but blush even more. They're at the entrance of the base, and Lt. Jones is about to say the password to the Private stationed as a guard, when Doc hears the familiar voice of Leckie. He turns towards the sound of his friends voice. Hillbilly follows him.

He is surprised to see Chuckler and Sergeant Larkin next to him. They seem to be arguing. He takes a step towards them and he feels Hillbilly do the same. They exchange a glance, as they hear the voices get louder. 

Hillbilly reaches them just in time as Larkin takes a threatening step towards Leckie. Chuckler looks torn and Leckie looks piss drunk. Tim's heart breaks, he looks so lost. He promises himself to talk with the man later. They have to solve this first. 

' What is going on here Sergeant?' 

Tim has never been more grateful for a drunken night spent with an officer. Hillbilly's voice cuts through the argument, silencing the two marines. All of them straighten their spine, stand at attention. Chuckler looks panicked but when he sees Tim, he relaxes. Leckie looks grateful, but as Larkin speaks up, his face twists into disgust. 

'First Lieutenant Jones, sir, I was just sending Private Leckie and Corporal Juergens back into camp, as Juergens failed to keep his position as a guard and Leckie' he basically snarls' disturbs the decorum with his useless ramblings, insulting me and speaking bullshit. Sir.' 

'Rambling, my _ass, you useless piece of-'_

 _'Leckie'_ Chuckler warns, as he sees his friend is ready to go off on the officer. 

Hillbilly thankfully saves them the trouble. 

' I think it's best if we all go on our way. Corporal Juergens, you are relieved from your duties as a guard for the night.' 

Larkin tries to speak up, but Jones says in a voice that leaves no room for argument, 

' Private Leckie, you are to appear at 0800 at my tent for briefing. I suggest you sober up by then.' 

'Yes, sir, _Lieutenant_ sir.' 

'Let's sack out for the rest of the night. And Sergeant?'

'Yes sir?'

'Having a rank as an NCO doesn't mean you have to be an asshole to your marines. 'Specially when they are clearly drunk. You should know better.' he nods with disappointment and turns to Leckie, who has his mouth agape. Chucler has a look of amazement on his face too, and Tim feels smug.

His friends are _awesome._

'Corporal Juergens, you need to help me get Doc back to his cot, he is a lightweight. Leckie you too.' 

A chorus of ' _aye sir!'_ wakes Tim from his musings. He let's out a low growl, and he hears Hillbilly snicker.

'With all due respect, _sir,_ I at least could still stand on my own feet after 4 beers. Unlike _someone_.'

They bicker like an old couple as Chuckler and Leckie trail after them, looking at the strange pair in wonder. They were saved by this curly-haired badass lieutenant and their Doc. When they reach their cots, Doc takes a smoke from his pack and offers it to Hillbilly. The Lieutenant gives him a knowing smirk and nods. They have a silent conversation. 

_'Until next time Lt. Thanks for saving my men.'_

_'No problem Doc. Rest up.'_

As they salute the man and he turns to walk off, they settle in their cots. Leckie grumbles about Larkin and Doc and Chuckler try to decipher his mumbling. Suddenly Hoosier's voice cuts through the dark.

'What the fuck, why does Doc know the First Lieutenant of King Company? And what the fuck happened to you guys?' 

**March 16th, 1943, Melbourne**

As sweat drops down his whole body, Romus Valton Burgin starts to wonder if his Gunnery Sergeant is trying to murder them all. And he finds it kind of unfair that the man doesn't even seem to break a sweat as he yells at them during a full sprint to ' _Get your useless asses to order, you are slower than my nonna! Santa Maria di Dio! Come on Shelton move your ass! De L'Eau feet first, you got this!'._

John Basilone is either not entirely human, or he is scarily good at hiding his exhaustion. 

Their Gunny makes them run faster than it is humanly possible and Burgie feels the eyes of the other marines on them. The _old breed,_ as he heard Gunny Basilone mention the veterans, are done with their PT and are now waiting for the 'boots' to finish. They have most of their training together as a Company, but the two Gunny Sergeants and the Skipper -who Burgie secretly thinks is the most competent Marine he's ever met- thought they need some training exercises to get on the veterans level of strength and endurance.

As they run up to Captain Haldane and First Lieutenant Jones, who ran with the others and seem barely out of breath -Burgie can't help his amazement- Gunnery Sergeant Basilone stops, salutes and beams at his COs. They both look at him with awe, as half of the new marines look ready to puke or pass out. 

'Skipper, LT, we might have a bunch of young, baby faced boots, but _damb_ can they run! Most of them will make it off the beaches.' He says, voices honest but proud. Burgie can't but wince at the _most of them._ Captain Haldane seems to catch his expression and he smiles at Burgie reassuringly. As they try to gather themselves, Jay De L'eau, who became one of Burgie's friend, looks worse for the wear. He looks pale and shaky. Lieutenant Jones seems to notice too and he yells for a corpsman. 

The fact that they can just yell and a man with medicine and supplies will arrive still amazes Burgie. As Jay kneels on the ground, face kind of turning green, a dirty blonde, blue eyed, kind looking man runs up to Basilone. And his words and thick Italian accent, full of barely contained rage surprise all of them. 

'Gunny what the helI we told you not to run them ragged on the first day! They're just out of boot camp for fuck's sake. They are babies. Look at them! They're not even eighteen, shit! And you are not the one to kneel in their puke if they throw up anyway. Take it easy, _sir._ Or easier. _Madre mia_!' As the corpsman goes off on their seemingly fearless Gunny, everyone holds their breath. Even Gunny Haney and Lt. Jones make surprised faces.

'Who's the poor boot skipper?'

He turns to Captain Haldane, after glaring at Basilone. Surprisingly, the Captain doesn't comment on the corpsman's attitude, just nods toward Jay. As the Doc makes his way over to him, Gunny Basilone speaks up, 

'And _him,_ kids' he sends a smirk towards the still panting marines ' is Doc Di Gallo. He's a ray of sunshine actually but it seems we got him on a bad day.' 

The man in question just mumbles some Italian curse words which make Basilone snicker. As he asks Jay to sit down and checks him up, it's Gunny Haney who speaks up. 

'The corpsmen, as most of you should now by now are the most fearless men in the whole Company. There are five of them in each Company and you all better pay attention to their every word. They are our only chance of survival if we fuck up. Or if the enemy gets to us. Treat them with respect boys.' 

The marines nod enthusiastically. As Burgie looks around, even the veterans look at the Doc with respect. The most apparent is that the Captain, the Gunnys, and the Lieutenant all seem to stay out of the Corpsman's way. 

'You will live, kid. It would be best if you sat down for a couple of minutes, let's see if the upset stomach is only from running like a _maniac_ ' he makes a face' or it's something else, okay?' 

'Yes, sir, Doc, sir.' Jay weakly exclaims and the Doc pulls him up, supporting him towards a crate. The marines let them pass, and Burgie thinks that Jay is now in good hands. 

Okay, now, ' Gunny Basilone claps, drawing attention to himself, 'we are going to keep the same schedule as yesterday, everyone go and find a pair, we are doing hand to hand combat. But no blood spills please, we need you all functioning. Also, I think the Docs would rip me apart so, civilized, good old combat.' 

As Burgie pairs up with Merriel Shelton, a cajun boy from Louisiana. He's fast as a viper and he sends Burgie to his back in a matter of seconds. They keep fighting and as Burgie thinks that this might as well be this easy in actual combat he suddenly hears Gunny Basilone roar. 

'What did you just say?' 

The replacement he's yelling at is an asshole, if you'd ask Burgie. He always went on about how the Japanese are nothing but animals and he can't wait to kill them. Burgie was disgusted by some of the things he said and he knows Merriel hates the boy with passion. As they watch him squirm under Gunny's gaze, they stop fighting. Actually there isn't a single word uttered as he answers, 

'I said I want to slap a Jap Gunny!' he has the nerve to say it with confidence. 

'At attention marines!' Basilone barks the order, and they stand in two lines in front of Gunny Basilone, who makes sure to walk in front of them, to glare at everyone he passes. 

_'Well shit, here we go!'_ Burgie thinks, as he sees Gunnery Sergeant Haney's knowing smirk. He's looking at Basilone, who is inches from the cocky boot's face. And then, John Basilone snarls, 

'Slap a Jap. Well how about it, boys?I bet you all want to do more than slap a Jap. Slap a Jap. That's what the enemy is to you, huh?A _fucking_ bucktoothed cartoon dreamed up by some asshole on Madison Avenue to sell soap? Well, let me tell you something. The Jap _I_ know, the Japanese soldier, he has been at war since you were in fucking _diapers_! He's a combat veteran, an expert with his weapon. He can live off of maggoty rice and muddy water for weeks and endure misery you couldn't dream up in your worst nightmare!The Japanese soldier doesn't care if he gets hurt or killed, as long as he _kills_ you. Now you can call them whatever you want.But never, _ever_ , fail to respect their desire to put you and your buddies into and early grave! Is that clear?'

The whole Company, roars 'Aye, Gunny!'. Some of the marines are as white as a sheet. Even the veteran marines are standing at attention, looking approvingly at Basilone, they must agree with every word he just said.

Burgie suddenly feels sick, _'this is not going to be easy at all, what the Hell did we sign up for?'._

From the deafening silence, Captain Haldane speaks up, 

'Couldn't have said it better myself Gunny. Company dismissed. It's time for chow anyway. We will continue the training with weapons, in platoons at 0900.' 

'Yes, _sir.'_ They say in unison. 

Burgie and Merriel walk together in the mass of marines, towards the showers. Suddenly, Lieutenant Jones's voice rings through the air,

'Private Burgin, a word?' 

Merriel keeps walking but he sends Burgie a curious look, and Burgie just nods at him, hoping Merriel takes it as an ' _all is good, I'll tell you everything later'_. Thankfully, he seems to get it and lets a small smile cross his face, encouraging Burgie. He catches up with some of the other marines and disappears into the crowd. 

Burgie stands at attention, while Lieutenant Jones walks in front of him. As he gets a few steps from Burgie, he tells him to ease up. 

'Burgin, Gunny Basilone told me that yesterday at weapons training you assembled your platoons M60 faster than _anyone_ he's ever seen. And he was a machine gunner for 5 years so that's something, kid. So me and the Skipper tought, that if you feel ready, we will make you train with the machine gunner squads who were at Guadalcanal. What do you think?' 

He offers it so kindly, so casually that Burgie can't find his words first. Not like he could say no to the LT or the Skipper. Not like he _wants to._ He wants their approval and he wants to be a marine worthy of it.

'Sir, I'd very much like that, thank you for the opportunity, sir.' he answers. 

Lieutenant Jones smiles at him approvingly and Burgie feels pride swelling in his chest. 

'All right Burgin, the guys will be training with Gunny Haney and he will tell you everything you need to know. If this turns out well, you can count on being a platoon leader on the landing, son. Now off you go, I bet the chow line is getting long.' He pats Burgie on the back, who is a bit star stuck. He admires this man, all the officers really. 

He makes his way to the showers and thinks about the future. He will train with soma badass marines, he will learn from the most competent Gunnery Sergeants and he is in what he thinks is the best Company in the whole USMC. He is hopeful and confident. He can't wait to learn. 

_*_

Timothy Robert Bryan is a recon certified corpsman. He is lethal in a fight and he is precise with every movement he makes. He is swift and one of the best corpsmen there is. He takes his work and his responsibilities seriously. He never loses his focus.

So when he walks into a crate of boxes you can bet your ass he has a good reason for it. 

The _reason_ is a very shirtless, very attractive, golden haired, blue-eyed, Italian-American, Pharmacist's Mate 1st Class named Luca Di Gallo. 

He is standing in front of Gunnery Sergeant Basilone and they seem to be arguing in italian. It involves a lot of cussing and Doc can feel his ears turn pink at a particularly nasty curse word he picked up from the two men in front of him. It's just after breakfast, it's 0730 and the two men are already in such a heated conversation that they don't even notice that Tim very loudly just walked into some supplies. 

'Aye Gunny, Doc, what's going on?'he quickly recovers, tries to keep his face straight as his stomach does a salto at the sight of Di Gallo. The other corpsman smiles at him, and he knows that he is so colossally _fucked._

'We are just talking about the need of PT for Corpsmen. I tried to prove to Gunny that no matter how hard he tries to push for it, we can't do the same calisthenics as the Marines. Our goals are not the same. We need running and different methods to carry the wounded, ways to get them to cover. Also we need to be really fast. What do you think, Doc?' 

The fact that Tim can keep his focus on Luca's face instead of his shoulders and upper body is a miracle in itself. He shakes his head a little, trying to arrange his thoughts. Basilone looks at him expectedly, gaze curious. 

'I agree with Luca, Gunny. I think our most important goal is to get to our wounded in time, we don't need the boot camp training again, although it would be great if we could try and see how we can bear the weight of some of the men.'

A tought crosses his mind. _Fucking Rudy Reyes, you amazing man._

' I also think it wouldn't be bad if we started running with our supplies, to get used to the weight and feel of it. What do you say?'he turns to Di Gallo, face hopeful. The other Doc just nods, small smile on his face and he looks at him with such an honest admiration that Tim can feel his ears turn pink. He decides to turn to Basilone instead, who also looks as surprised as proud. 

'That's a great idea Doc. I'll let the Skipper know what you and _Sunshine_ cooked up.'

At the 'sunshine' he just winks at Doc Di Gallo, who in answer raises a middle finger at him. As Gunny starts to walk away, after reminding them that their 'new PT starts at 0900' Luca finally turns at Tim, who, putting his embarrassment aside, let's his eyes roam. 

What he sees takes his breath away. The man in front of him looks like he was sculpted by _fucking_ _Michaelangelo._ He has the shoulders of a man who carries lots of weight around - their medical bags and pouches are heavy as hell; his stomach is toned, but he doesn't have a six pack and it somehow makes him more attractive on the Melbourne sunlight. His arms are toned nicely and Tim's mouth goes dry as his eyes linger on the other man's hands,knuckles, long fingers. He clears his throat and looks back at Luca's face. 

He finds the other man is already looking at him. He nervously swallows, mumbles a 'sorry'. Luca Di Gallo, a sweet, so so kind man manages to send Tim the most mischievous smile he has ever seen. 

'Like what you see _Doc_?' He takes a step closer to Tim, eyes never leaving his face. There's challenge in his voice, and Tim can't help but wonder if he's dreaming. It can't be that one of his best friends, _his crush_ is flirting with him. 

'Are you' he gulps nervously ' are you _flirting_ with me, Luca?'

The other Doc's face lights up, then quickly goes to careful. Calculating. 

'Why, if I said yes, would you punch me in the face?' his voice is thick with uncertainty, his accent jumping out slightly. 

'If you said yes, I'd tell you that it's very much welcome. And that I'd flirt back, if i knew how. Uh. Yeah.' he nervously scratches his head.

' _Tesoro,_ I've been flirting with you for months! Thanks for finally noticing! So, ye-'

'CORPSMAN!' the call rings out, cutting Luca's sentence into half. They exchange a glance and Tim nods. Out of the two of them, he is the one with a supply bag and a shirt on him.

'We will continue later, _sir.'_ he smirks at him, and runs towards the voice. He can't help the stupid grin on his face. He feels like a teenager. 

_He likes me back!! What the fuuuuck??!!_

_*_

Ever since the night of his disagreement with Larkin, Leckie has changed. He talks less and smiles even less. When he punches one of his fellow marines to the point that the man has a huge fucking nosebleed, Tim is called to patch the man up. He takes in the face of his friend, then he starts to help the broken nosed Marine. He can't help and a 'Leckie, _what the fuck is wrong with you?_ ' leaves his mouth, as he pulls re locates the poor bastard's nose to it's place. 

'Ib wass me' faoult' the broken nosed marine gets out, and Tim turns to him questioningly. 

'What?' 

'I sab 'e was angry and I kebt bushing fo' answers. Sorry mate!' He manages to get out and then he shuts up as Tim starts to clean his nose. He winces at the disinfectant. The marines around them nod, and Tim turns to Sergeant Van der Bilt for answers. He was the one who yelled for a Corpsman in the first place. He just nods and then says, 

'Private Leckie had an other run in with Lieutenant Larkin this morning. He's been -pardon my french Doc- angry as fuck this whole morning. Jameson just kept pushing. Can't really blame either of them. ' he shrugs. 

Doc finishes with Jameson, turns to Leckie. He looks furious and sad at the same time. Doc aches for him. He turns to the Sergeant.

'Sir , Jameson will be all right, I'll be back to check up on him in 10 minutes. Can I steal Leckie for a necessary conversation, sir?'

'Sure thing Doc, do your thing. Leckie you are dismissed until further notice. ' 

'Thank you sir. Sorry again, cobber. Didn't mean to break your nose.'he says to Jameson, who just waves him off. 

He grabs Leckie by the neck, guides him further from the marines and out to the shadows of the corridor. He looks around and sees a spot. Guides Leckie there, lights two cigarettes and asks,

'What's the matter Lucky? Tell me?' 

'Fucking Larkin and this fucking war. And the fact that most of the new boots should be still in high school! Fuck, man, Sid should be in a university and not fighting the fucking Japanese. This is bullshit! Fucking Hoosier!' 

Doc chokes on the smoke. 

_What_?

'What? What's wrong with Hoosier?' 

To his surprise Leckie has tears in his eyes as he answers him. 

'I'm in love with him. And he knows. I told him.' 

'Leckie..' 

'He kissed me, that night with our fight with Larkin. He was drunk. I wasn't. I got drunk after. I don't think he remembers.'

*

Lena Riggi is about to leave the ' Little Melbourne ' café with her girlfriends and colleagues, when a hesitant voice stops her. 

'Excuse me? Ma'am? Can I have a word?' 

The man who stopped him, is a blue eyed, handsome fella with black hair and a shy smile. 

Lena recognizes John Basilone in a matter of seconds but she doesn't let her surprise show. 

'Sure thing Marine. What can I do for you?' 

'Ma'am I was wondering if you'd like to go on a date with me?' he is nervous. He is adorable. Lena can't fathom how a man this handsome can look so cute. She smiles at him, 

'And where would we go, marine? If I said yes?' 

A hopeful glint shows in Basilone's eyes. He let's himself smile.

'Anywhere you want ma'am. It's not the place I am looking forward to, it's the company.'

'Cheeky. I like you. I'm Lena Riggi,US Marine, Sergeant. And you are?' Of course she knows who he is, but she likes to tease his future dates. 

'Nice to meet you Sergeant Riggi. I am John Basilone. US Marine just like you ma'am. I'm a Gunnery Sergeant. ' he doesn't let his ego show, or he is actually this himble, Lena can't decide yet. But he likes the man and as they shake hands, she can feel he likes her too.

'I'd say, lets meet here, sam time tomorrow Gunnery Sergeant Basilone, and then we will see what to do next.' 

She tries not to blush as Basilone gives her hand a kiss. 

'Can't wait ma'am. Same time here, tomorrow.' He smiles, a real smile and Lena knows she is doomed. 

As her girlfriends giggle in the background, she lets go of Basilone's hand and smiles a final smile at him. She can't wait for tomorrow. 

**July 23,1943,Melbourne**

Captain Haldane, Gunny Haney, Gunny Basilone and Lieutenant Jones are standing in front of their new company, King Company, 3rd Battalion, 5th Marines. They are more than ready for a fight and they are shipping out tomorrow morning, on _USS Sabina._

After months of training and getting to know the men, Ack-Ack knows they are ready. They have great leaders and even better corpsmen. 

After hearing the praises about Di Gallo,Stern and Bryan, Andy put in a transfer request to have them as his corpsmen. Of course, when it came to the machine gunner squad of H Company he did the same. Now one would argue that he stole the best men out of Stone's and Larkin's leadership but strangely they didn't even complain.

Even so Larkin made some distasteful comments about Private Leckie and Doc Bryan. If it weren't for Andy, Hillbilly would have knocked the other Lieutenant out. 

Ack-Ack must admit that it was genuine curiosity and disbelief that made him want to meet the Docs. The three of them were a unit even if you didn't see them together most of the time. 

Doc Stern was sarcastic, smart and always calm. The men liked him, even if he didn't really go into personal details. He was easy to like and easier to pay attention to. He put anyone to their place, wasn't afraid to call someone out on their bullshit and he was a great man. Andy liked him easily. 

Doc Di Gallo was the kindest man Andy has ever met. He was patient, smart and caring. And one had to admit, he was beautiful too. He joked around the marines, put them at ease and soothed them with his warm voice. He was fast and affective. And on the rare occasions he got angry, the whole room fell silent. People paid him attention and tried to not to disappoint him. The men _adored_ him. 

Doc Bryan, at first glance looked like he walked down from a Navy Hospitalman recruiting poster. He was tall, muscular and he had a look on his face that warned anyone that he can-and-will mess you up if necessary. Andy was surprised, taken aback at first, even. Then the Doc made Eddie and Haney laugh so hard during chow in the first morning that they snorted their coffee. Doc Bryan just let a lazy smile cross his face and he winked at Andy. It was mutual respect and I-am-not-afraid-to-tell-you-my-opinion-sir from there on. They developed a strange friendship and Andy couldn't help but feel at ease. 

They had two other corpsmen coming later on, while they embark, fresh out of boot camp. They were in for a treat. 

'All right King Company' he speaks up ' tomorrow we are going on the USS Sabina at 0500. You all know the drill! Rest up, don't get too drunk and enjoy the last day off! See you at 0400 tomorrow morning sharp! Company dismissed!'

'Oorah, skipper!' 

As he and Lieutenant Jones- Eddie- watch _their company_ split into little groups and pairs, he feels anxiety and pride fight in his chest. 

They are going to war tomorrow. 


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> An extended stay in Melbourne.Silent pining. A proposal. New friendships.A bet. Cape Gloucester. King Company's first beach landing. Baptism by fire.Rain. Losing faith.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i just realized that i completely fucked up the timeline of the battles, so im giving the boys some more months in Melbourne hah but after that it's game on <3  
> also this is a more angsty chapter sorry in advance 
> 
> TRIGGER WARNING: death, mention of suicide and puke!! If you don't want any of those please skip the part after the first * under the [ December 23,1943,Cape Gloucester] !!!!

_I want to believe_   
_Instead, I look at the sky and I feel nothing_

_-Chinese Satellite by Phoebe Bridgers_

** July 24,1943,Melbourne **

'Skipper, pardon my french, _sir_ , but what the _fuck!!_?' 

John Basilone's voice rings through the shocked silence of the marines. Andy can't blame them, or John for that matter. The news they heard are unexpected. 

They've been told, that their deployment is postponed until further notice because some Army higher up asshole decided that the USMC is not going to be the spearhead of the assault on the new New Guinea theater. When Ack-Ack received the news from their Lieutenant Colonel Puller, he was relieved and disappointed at the same time.

He felt restless, ready to fight. In the meantime, he was scared for _his men._ The mixture of emotions he went through must have shown on his face because, after the briefing, Lieutenant Jones pulled him aside and quietly asked if he was okay and then proceeded to come up with a plan on how to keep their marines occupied. 

And now after being the bearer of the bittersweet news, with King Company looking at him after John's question, it's Eddie again who saves him. 

'King Company listen up! This is not what we have been training for or expecting but we are _Marines_! Some of the best, if I say so. And Marines make do!. We will ship out when we ship out! Until then, we get into our best shape! Let's not lose our spirits now! We can only get better than these boys and when we finally land on that goddamned beach, the enemy won't know what hit them!'

His doesn't even raise his voice but every marine hangs on his words. The emotions make his southern drawl apparent a little bit and some of the boys smile at their young lieutenant. Some of them seem disappointed, still, but Eddie's words bring excitement and acceptance to their faces. 

To Andy's surprise, it's Doc Bryan who speaks up next,

'Aye, aye Lieutenant! And at least the Gunnys will have more time to run us to the ground! And we can have beers for a bit longer too! And none of us will die in the next few days so cheer up, you bastards!' 

He manages to make _bastards_ sound fond _._ He has the smallest smile in the corner of his mouth, as he looks at the marines in front of him.

The Lieutenant's and Doc's speeches seem to rouse the men from disappointment. Some of them let out an _'Oorah!'_ and Andy smiles despite the worry in his gut. He has grown fond of them during the months spent together even if he knows it's dangerous. He cares for all of them, and he wants them to go home. He knows that it won't be possible, it is _war_ after all, but a man can dream. Until their time has come to land on the beaches, he will do his best to prepare his men for the battles.

He is grateful for the extra time but he still feels kind of useless. It feels like they could do _something_ to make sure they win the war, but the authorities are just pushing them aside when they could be useful and it angers Andy. He takes a deep breath to calm his mind. 

Doc and Eddie are standing on the right of Andy and he can see as Eddie offers Doc a fist bump. The Corpsman's smile becomes more apparent as he bumps his knuckles to Eddie's. 

'All right K/3/5! You all get today off, let's all take a breather for a while, but I expect everyone to be at PT tomorrow morning at 0700 sharp. And don't mess with the MPs! Not even you Gunny!' he turns to Haney, who is notorious for pulling pranks and talking back to the Military Police. 

The older man just grins at his Captain and lets out a 'Sir, yes, sir!' that promises trouble. He knows, however, that Haney is reliable and one of the best most obedient marines, so he knows the Gunny is just messing with him. 

'Company dismissed!' He lets out the final order and watches as his men disperse. Some of them seem to be going straight back to their cots, and some of them go for the gates of the stadium. As Gunny Basilone and Haney take off too, the former most probably going to find her girlfriend, to tell her they still have time together, Andy lets out a heavy sigh. He is not looking forward to the huge pile of paperwork ahead of him. 

He is startled out of his thoughts when Doc Di Gallo lets out a soft ' _Thank fuck_!'. 

Andy and Eddie turn towards him in surprise. Doc Bryan's eyes are locked with the other Corpsman's and as Doc Stern ruffles Di Gallo's hair, he says, 

'I _know_! God, I really couldn't have made myself stitch some of the kids back together without losing it. They are barely adults! Trying to keep them from bleeding out...Or fucking taking their dog tags off..... Jesus fucking Christ, no! Just this once, thank _fuck_ for command messing up!' he actually shudders and this is the first time Andy has seen the Doc's hard exterior break. His face is showing relief and he looks calmer than he usually seems.

The Captain and Lieutenant Jones lock eyes, after the confessions of their Corpsmen. Andy has always thought that being a Corpsman was the hardest job in the Corps but he never really thought about the toll it took on the men. As Stern and Di Gallo let out an 'Amen!' the tension in their posture eases up. 

'Basilone is going to make us go even harder at PT, looking forward to that, though! Ah and we still have the newbies coming in around 1700. And shit, we have to find Kydd before he smothers Larkin because I don't trust the new H Co. boys to stop him!' Stern laughs, easing the tension a bit more. 

'Ah, yeah, Benji I bet if you were the one left alone to deal with that _asshole_ , you'd want to throttle him too!' Di Gallo quips, looking more relaxed. 

Eddie and Doc Bryan snort at the same time and look at each other in silent agreement. They both hate Larkin with a passion, and Andy knows there must be a story there. He is curious but he doesn't want to pry.

'All right, I'll go and make sure Kydd hasn't murdered his COs yet and you two lovebirds better not sneak around making goo-goo eyes at each other and look after our boys while I'm gone!' Stern smirks smugly at Di Gallo and Bryan. He even winks at Di Gallo, who looks at him with his mouth agape.

' _Fuck you_ man!' Doc Bryan laughs and Di Gallo attempts to draw Stern in a chokehold, Andy not failing to notice the slight blush on Di Gallo's cheeks.

'You wish you could get a piece of this ass, _Timmy_ -oh,hey that's cheating!' Stern tries to fight against Di Gallo's hold, while Bryan just laughs, watching his partners fight like kids. 

'Tim, _brother'_ Stern wheezes 'weren't you going to stop-ow!- this fuckery?' Stern asks, as he finally gets out of Di Gallo's hold, looking a bit out of breath. He sticks his tongue out to Stern, who just curses him out in italian. In response Di Gallo just scoffs and gives Stern the bird. Bryan just laughs then ruffles Stern's hair in a brotherly gesture. 

The three of them turn back towards Andy and Eddie, salute and then take off, to find Kydd and to make sure no one gets hurt. They keep bickering and pushing each other, the weight of responsibility shifting off their shoulders for a while. For having the hardest job in the Company, it is refreshing to see that they can still ease up.

Andy and Eddie watch them go in amusement. 

'Well Captain, we have work to do!' Eddie knocks his shoulders against his, and Andy can't help but smile. 

'Yeah, let's get to it Lieutenant! Thank you for the speech by the way! The men needed it! Hell, I needed it!' he let's a grateful smile cross his face. Eddie just shrugs, 

'Anything for _you_ and our Company, Skipper!'he laughs, reaching for his pack of Lucky Strikes.

As he turns to light up a smoke, his eyes don't catch Ack-Ack's soft expression. Maybe it's for the better, because Andy has a sudden realization that if they were on the USS already, he'd have to share his cabin with the Lieutenant. The thought makes his stomach do a salto, definitely not imagining what an absolute fool he'd make about himself with the subject of his desire in the room, so close. 

He shakes his head, and takes a deep breath of the still chilly morning air. 

'Let's get some coffee, Lieutenant!' he says, looking forward to his upcoming work, knowing he can spend some time with Eddie. 

The sun slowly climbs up on the horizon,while they make their way towards the officers tent. Eddie casually rests one of his palms on Andy's shoulders, while they discuss the newer marines, and as he talks, Andy thinks he could listen to this man forever. 

_*_

'Psst, Doc! _Doc!_ ' Tim is roused from his cat nap by Sid. He is up, faster than a bullet, reaching for his medical bag.

'What, you're hurt? What's up? Did-'when he sees Sid's smiley face, he calms down immediately. The young boy is looking happier lately, much to Tim's liking. It was heartbreaking to see all his friends hollow and tired on the canal. Melbourne did them good, with it's sunshine and people, laughter and ice-cream. The women help too, Tim is not gonna lie. He knows most of the guys have sweethearts in the city, and he knows Sid is among them. 

Sid snickers at his grumpy morning expression and tells him he looks like an angry kitten. Doc just sits up and looks up at his friend.

'What's up cobber? Spill the beans!' Doc suppresses a yawn, putting the heel of his palms to his eyes to rub out the sleepiness from them. As he pulls his hands back, he finds that Sid has taken seat on the opposite cot from him, holding out a cigarette for Tim to take. He accepts it, wonders at what would his Bravo boys say, as Sid lights him his smoke. He has been smoking like a sailor ever since the first night on that deck with Lieutenant Jones. He can hear Rudy's 'warrior-healer that will mess your lungs and chakras up!' and he has to suppress a smile. He briefly wonders if he will see them again. 

He gets sad quickly, when he thinks of Bravo 2 these days. Technically they aren't even born yet and Tim doesn't know if he can or will go back to _his_ timeline. During Guadalcanal he focused solely on keeping the others and himself alive, he had no free time to even sleep. In Melbourne though, with his freetime being spent mostly in parks and on the beach, wandering through the city alone, when he needed to get away- he often found himself wondering about his impact on this part of history. 

He knows John Basilone got a Medal of Honor in his timeline as well, but he doubts he was attached to King Company too. He suspects the bar drawl didn't happen like this either, and he wonders what else had changed. 

'-Hoosier and Leckie?'he only catches the last part of Sid's question. He looks expectantly at Doc, who is confused, too caught up in his own thoughts.

'Sorry? I zoned out.' 

'Do you know what's up with Leckie and Hoosier? They have been acting weird as hell lately! It makes me anxious that it's going to be like this through the next campaign. I don't want to lose them...' he trails off, looking sad and downright scared.

'Uh, hmm-, well you remember that night with Larkin? When LT Jones and I brought Lec-'

'Wait when they kissed?I thought they have talked that through! Awh shit! I thought it was something else'

'Wha- You know about THAT? Sid, buddy, what the fuck?' Doc must have a scandalized look on his face, because Sid just snorts.

'Yeah, after we got out of the bar and Hoos ran away I went after him. You weren't there but he actually sang his heart out to a bar full of strangers! Oh damn I forgot that! Anyway, he technically ran back here and then puked his guts out. I helped him, and he told me he kissed Leckie. He was miserable Doc, he went on about how he fucked up their whole relationship. I took care of him until he fell asleep. Chuckler and Runner took care of Peaches until he disappeared on them. And then you and the LT showed up and then Hoos acted like he remembered nothing! Ugh, those two!' Sid shakes his head, soft curls bouncing from the wind. He looks impossibly young and downright pissed.

'He-, Sid, Leckie said Hoosier didn't remember anything! Jesus fuck! They are idiots! They are clearly in love! Fuck! ' Now Tim is pissed too, on behalf of Sid. 

'Yeah! Doc, Bill sang 'Like Walking on Broken Glass' piss drunk, and he only looked at Leckie. With like, heart-eyes! Tell me how the fuck can they think they aren't feeling the same things?' 

'Ugh, I don't know kid. We have to do something!'

'Aye, you are right! On another note have you noticed that Runner and Chuckler...'

As they continue discussing their friends and possible couples, they smoke and trade ideas, all alone in the sector of the stadium. When the time for chow arrives, they have a mutual agreement to do recon on their friends, while they also try to come up with a plan on how to make them admit their feelings for each other.

**August 6 ,1943, Melbourne**

'Corpsman!'

'Un- _fucking_ -believable Basilone, I just let you out of my sight for 15 minutes!' the yell freezes every newer marine but it makes the old breed snicker. 

They are doing hand-to-hand combat, and as Gunny Basilone shows them how to disarm an attacker with a machete when you have no weapon, he accidentally cuts himself, getting too excited and gesticulating widely, telling a story of his friend JP being in a fishy situation with a machete. 

The man that runs up to Gunny is a familiar sight, but Jay has never heard him speak, let alone yell before. His name is Doc Bryan, and they all know that he is great friends with LT Jones and Gunny Basilone and the two other old breed Docs. He is tasked with training their new Corpsmen, two younger men, who just got to base, while Doc Stern and Doc Di Gallo monitor the trainings. Today, however, it's Doc Stern who is training the new Pharmacist's Mates and apparently Doc Bryan is their go-to Corpsman. 

Doc Bryan is tall and he looks strong, almost as built as Gunny Haney. When he strides across the field to take Basilone's bleeding hand into his, to inspect the damage,he keeps fuming, much to Jay's surprise,

'You know Gunny, Lena is going to whoop your ass over hurting yourself again, and then I won't be there to patch you up! Seriously, if that woman was our CO you'd be more careful!' 

'If it's any any consolation, Doc, my momma made me pay for my own band-aids since I was 5 because I kept getting into trouble!' 

'It isn't, sir but now I know that we need to keep our eyes peeled for you even more', the Doc smiles, while he gently cleans and wraps the cut. He towers over the Gunny, but there is nothing threatening in his stance or look. He works quickly and efficiently, and when he is done, he pats Gunny on the shoulders. 

'Careful now, _Manila_. I know you are a fucking badass, but keep out of trouble, yeah? I'll be on the sidelines if you need me.' He is gentle and Jay can't help but think he looks like he could protect them all from the bad things that are ahead of them. He shakes his head, knowing that one man alone can't save them all from hurt. But under the Doc's assessing gaze, he feels like they are being watched over by a pissed, built-like-a-boxer, FMF trained guardian angel, who appears to be wearing a brown bandana and a slight smile. 

_*_

Di Gallo clocks it before Doc Bryan. It is barely noticable, to those who don't know Runner or Chuckler, but after spending a lot of time with the ex-H Company boys, Luca has grown to know them. 

And when Runner's hands seem to linger a bit more on Chuckler's when they light their smokes or the way Chuckler's eyes soften, he nudges Tim, who is busy with cutting bandages. 

'Hmm? Oh! _Oh_!!' 

'Mhhmm, I only noticed it now too!'

'Shit I owe Sid so much money!' Tim sighs and Luca let's out a laugh.

It warms Tim from the inside, like hot chocolate or honey. Luca pushes him a bit with his shoulders, making him look up. 

The other man's eyes are piercing, sky blue and beautiful. Tim has to swallow the lump in his throat. He wants to kiss him,more than he wants anything.

He instead focuses on cutting the bandages, letting the butterflies settle in his stomach. Ever since they discussed their mutual crush, things have gotten easier between them, the lingering gazes and touches finally making sense. They haven't kissed, not yet, there wasn't time or place for it, not yet anyway. But every time they are near each other, Tim can't help but gravitate towards Luca.

And Stern, the little shit has noticed too. He constantly teases them but never gets disrespectful or mean about it, which Tim is thankful for. 

Lieutenant Jones-Eddie ' _Tim, I thought we were friends_ '- knows too. Doc found him right that day and promptly freaked out to him. Eddie just told him to take a breath, calm down and take the opportunity to now freely ogle at his crush. Ever since then, whenever he sees Tim, he just wiggles his eyebrows at him and Tim can't help but snort at his best friends antics. 

As if summoning a deity or a demon - he is a handsome devil after all- Lieutenant Edward Jones walks up to them, where they are sitting on crates, going through their supplies, Chuckler and Runner keeping them company. They all greet him with a 'good day,sir!' and Eddie just smiles and nods at them. He turns to the Docs.

'Bryan, the Skipper needs you for a bit, it's about the new Corpsmen and their progress. So, follow me sailor!' he smirks at Tim,offering his hand to pull him up. Tim nods a 'see you later' at Luca and his two friends and follows Eddie through the maze of the tents. They walk side by side, sharing a cigarette. When they stop before the Captain's tent Eddie takes a huge breath. Tim just smirks, knows how in deep Eddie is for the man. He would never tell it to anyone tough. 

'Captain Haldane, I have brought you a beautiful Corpsman as you ordered!'

There is an audible snort coming from the tent and Captain Haldane's voice seeps out of the tent : 

'Come on in, Doc! You too Jones, I have some news about or possible landing from intelligence!'

As they make their way into the tent, Doc can't help but wince at the huge pile of paperwork that sits in front of the Captain. He is sitting behind his desk, a pen between his hands as he looks at his men. Doc and Eddie salute at the same time, which makes Ack-Ack smile. He gestures them to ease up and as Doc steps closer he notices the violet under the skipper's eyes. The Captain looks like he hasn't slept in at least two days. Doc feels worry drop into his stomach and he decides to speak up.

' _Sir_ , excuse me for interrupting you before you even start, but how long have you been awake?' he knows he might be out of line but he needs his men to be alright. 

Haldane actually looks a bit ashamed as he admits, 

'Uh, 50 hours give or take? I have this whole pile to get through by Friday and I don't really know if I-'

' _Sir_!' Doc inwardly winces at the cutting edge in his own voice 'whatever you want to discuss with me and Lieutenant Jones, whatever _shitty_ paperwork the higher up boot-fucked cake eaters gave you can wait! You need to sleep, sir, like _immediately_!' he is using his best 'Doc' voice. He keeps going, when he sees the Captain opening his mouth, ready to argue,

' _Captain_ , I know it must be all important stuff, but please consider that we are going to be _royally fucked_ if you pass out on us and they give us someone like Larkin! Skipper you _need_ sleep, you are not a machine!' he knows he has made a point when the Skipper slumps back into his chair, defeated. He seems to consider what he just heard and then nods at Doc, eyes sincere as he looks at him. 

'Sir, I will come back here to do a report on the newbies first thing tomorrow morning, with a mug of Haney's coffee if you go to sleep now! LT, it's 1800, wake him up in every 4 hours so he doesn't get completely disoriented. Even better, if you stay with him, you can keep him away from the paperwork. Actually, Corpsman's orders, sirs!' Doc nods decidedly smiling at his COs. 

Eddie lets out a low whistle, amazed,

'Goddamn, Doc, good thing you are not a Gunny because you'd handle us our arses, son' he laughs. Tim can't help but notice the gratitude on his face. Immediately he realizes that Eddie wanted something like this from Doc, for him to tell the Captain to take it easy. As he just shrugs at his LT, Captain Haldane speaks up, 

'You are a force to be reckoned with, Bryan. Thank you for looking out for me, I tend to get lost in all of this!' he sighs, rubbing his hands across his tired face. 

'And Gunny's coffee is outright bribery Doc, I'll take it! Thank you! See you at 0600, _sir_!'

Tim feels the rare gut warming feeling of pride in his chest. It is not everyday that the Skipper addresses someone as 'sir', only his higher ups or people he respects. It feels amazing and it goes straight to his head. He knows that all of the K/3/5 wants to impress Captain Haldane, wants to be worthy of his approval. He isn't different either and he wonders if he looks as shocked as he feels. He must, because Haldane has a little approving smile on his face as Doc nods, swallows and answers, 

'Aye,aye Skipper! Sleep well,sir! LT you too! See you sirs tomorrow!' 

He nods at Eddie, salutes to Haldane and exits the tent. As the sun goes down on the horizon, he makes his way back to his men and leaves his COs to rest.

** November 3,1943,Melbourne **

'She said _yes_!' Basilone yells at them, bursting into the tent that serves as their canteen. The whole tent erupts into cheers and shouts of congratulations. It is deafening. It is probably the second happiest moment of John's life.

The first one of course, is when Lena whispered 'Yes!' on the little beach on Melbourne, on _their_ spot, after John asked 'Lena Mae Riggi, will you make me the happiest man on Earth, will you marry me?'. They laughed and slow danced in the moonlight afterwards and they roamed the streets of Melbourne, their home away from home,with an new, small ring shining on Lena's ring finger. When they parted in the early hours of the morning, Lena whispered 

'I can't wait to be Mrs. Basilone, John, I love you so much!' And she looked so happy and so beautiful that John fell in love all over again. 

Now he is among his men, his marines and he is so happy he could burst. 

' _Congratulations, brother, I knew she was going to say yes! You two will be a great couple!'_ Di Gallo tells him in rapid Italian, before he draws him in to a one armed hug. 

' _Thank you Doc! It means the world!'_ he answers back in his mother tongue, choking on his emotions, being amazed at how _loved_ he is by his Company, as he gets handshakes, hugs and hair ruffles from his men. Gunny Haney slaps him in the back so forcefully that he can feel a bruise forming, but he doesn't mind. He can't stop smiling, can't help at the feeling of **home** in his chest, as he takes in the men in front of him.

** December 22,1943,USS Sabina **

Merriel Shelton feels like he is going to go into a cardiac arrest. 

He is 19, he is on the top of a USS which is taking them from the safe haven that was Melbourne into the arms of the Japanese army. The way the ship speeds through the brutal waves, metal, and iron and men under him, he grabs the railing. He is not alone up in the deck, but he is too wrapped up in the sight, in his own head to pay attention to the marines and sailors around him.

He has earned the nickname 'SNAFU' from PFC Leckie, who in Merriel's humble opinion is an asshole. But only because Merriel can see the way Hoosier looks at Leckie, how it hurts him and they don't move on, they just circle around each other and it is driving Merriel mad, ever since he noticed. He knows that Doc Bryan knows, and PFC Philips has clocked it too. 

During their training, when Burgie was away, assembling machine guns with Leckie and Juergens, Philips helped the others with the mortars. Jay was away soaking up the new knowledge he got about bazookas and while they discussed mortars Philips caught Merriel staring at Leckie and Hoosier. They seemed to be arguing again, to everyone's "surprise", but they kept touching without even noticing. 

'Yeah, don't even mention it! Doc and I have a bet on who will break first. You want in?'

'Yeah man, what is the price?'

'Pack of smokes for now! We raise the stakes when something happens. I'm betting on Hoos'

'Cool.' Merriel drawls, let's the word roll off his tongue ' I'm betting on Leckie.'

Philips snorts, 'Just like Doc!'.

'Aye ladies, quit sitting around and start assembling your shit, we ain't got all day!' Gunny Haney yells at them and they focus back on the task at hand.

Merriel knew he was truly in for the bet, when Doc Bryan just raised an impressed eyebrow at him the next time they saw each other. Merriel grew to like Hoosier,Sid,Runner and Chuckler too, but he couldn't quite put his finger on Leckie. After some verbal fights, he was impressed with the mans quick brain but there was some unsaid tension between them, still. And after a sarcastic remark, the man told him he should just put 'Situation Normal, All Fucked Up' on his forehead as a warning. He remembers how Hoosier looked ready to fight, immediately, tension like lava brewing between him and Leckie. But when Merriel just said 'I like it, _cher_ , I'll take it' he eased up. He still sent a dirty look at Leckie and Merriel felt a buzz of fondness for his new friends. 

That feeling was nowhere now. He was startled by the soft voice of Jay De L'eau, one of his best friends. 

' _Can't sleep either, Merriel?'_ he asks in soft French. It calms Merriel down immediately, his mother tongue washing over his nerves like a soothing balm. Instead of answering - he knows he'd choke on every word he wants to say- he just nods at Jay. 

They watch the sunset together, brothers in arms, brothers not by blood but by _choice_. 

They wait and fear for tomorrow.

**December 23,1943,Cape Gloucester**

'' _Crawling up the beaches now/ Sir, I think he's bleeding out!''_

_Epiphany by Taylor Swift_

It's nothing like Guadalcanal.

There are no other USMC platoons on the beaches. 

Instead, there are japanese, bullets and cries for help. Tim is already starting to lose every last bit of hope he has. He takes another dog tag off of a too-fucking-young dead marine. He can't bear to look at the boy's face, he just keeps going. 

He curses and prays at every God he can think of, to make sure that most of the men make it through. As bullets whizz past him,he runs towards an other bleeding body, bandaging the leg wound, being thankful that it isn't fatal. He scoops up the boy, and runs for the closest cover. 

'Kid, I'll get you stitched up, hang in there ok? You'll make it, it's nothing fatal thankfully, but I have to dig the bullet out! You understand?' he yells, screaming through the mortars and gunfire. The poor kid just nods,face terrified, but as soon as Tim gives him a small dose of morphine, he relaxes. Doc works fast and for a split second wishes for his backpack back in Iraq. He could do much better with it and the knowledge pisses him off. 

He grits his teeth, gets a Marine close to them to accompany the bandaged up kid and runs to the next bleeding men.

He collects 15 identity tags in what feels like ten minutes. He bandages up everyone he can, and holds the hand of those he can't. 

There are tears and blood on his face and when the gunfire finally stops, he can't help but wonder why he isn't dead yet. 

Merry fucking Christmas! he thinks bitterly, looking at the blood dripping from his hands.

**December 28,1943,Cape Gloucester**

John Basilone is worried for his men. Especially for his Corpsmen. 

It's been only 5 days since they landed, but they lost 23 menin the landing and even more of them start to go crazy under the constant rain. 

The bonsai attacks from the japanese make everyone jumpy and anxious. And after losing Sergeant Connor to a leg wound that didn't seem that bad, seeing the always calm and happy Doc Di Gallo flip the entire operating table the Docs had set up in frustration made everyone wonder how bad this must be for the Docs. 

The only man who seems like he is holding on well to his sanity is Lieutenant Jones. 

He amazes John, even after the months spent near the man. 

He finds a way to calm the jumpy privates down, to offer advice to his Sergeants and fellow Lieutenants. Since the weather is always a curtain of rain, he can't get his precious guitar out, but he sings them ballads and old folk songs he remembers. Private First Class Burgin joins him from time to time and in those moments, there is peace. They are singing even now, and Basilone can see the moment Doc Bryan relaxes his shoulders. The man has been looking angrier by each passing day but John can't blame him. 

When Captain Haldane assembled everyone on the beach after 2 hours of fighting, Doc Bryan looked like he walked up straight from Hell. Out of the 23 dog tags the Docs have collected, he held 15 in his shaking hands, which were bloody up to his elbows. He had anger simmering in his blue eyes but his words hurt more than any bullet,

'I'm sorry Captain, I tried to get to them, but-there-there was nothing- _fuck_ Skipper they are just kids who will never get home!I'm so sorry!' he closed his eyes, with a defeated look on his face. 

'Doc, you did everything you could, thank you! I am sorry too!' Andrew Haldane said in a tender, honest way. Doc Bryan looked him in the eyes, acceptance slowly seeping into his gaze. The other corpsmen were shaken as well but they all gathered around Bryan for a moment. It was heartbreaking and full of love. As they collected the tags taken off their now dead comrades, John Basilone had a feeling that this campaign is going to be a nightmare. 

And with the constant rain, the banzai charges and the restless marches, he knows he is not far from the truth. 

_*_

The first death that has nothing to do with the japanese is Private Stonewell. He shoots himself in the head after a week of endless rain and multiple banzai charges. Doc Stern is the closest of the Corpsmen, and as he takes the bloody tags off, he shakes his head. 

Jay De L'eau a quick on his feet, sweet boy sees the remnants of his fellow marine and manages to puke his guts out into the muddy ground. 

Doc Di Gallo is right next to him, soothing his shaking body, talking to him in a hushed voice. The boy just sobs, his salty tears merging with the downpour. Gunny Haney walks over them, with a somehow still warm cup of coffee and shoves it into the boys hands. Doc Di Gallo nods in thanks, and he let's out a warm smile when after a generous sip, the boy offers him one too. 

_*_

After a few days of radio silence from the command, they are ordered to take an airfield. 

'This is bullshit! We all know that the Japanese will bomb us as soon as we try to approach that and they fucking know it! Not to mention our men can barely fucking walk!'

It's the first time Basilone has questioned an order directly from the higher ups, but Andy is not surprised. He feels uneasy too, he doesn't want to lose more men. 

Private Gibson has been taken off line after killing an unarmed japanese soldier with his bare hands. 

Private First Class Leckie had a cold that resulted in him, pissing himself, an enuresis caused by the constant rain. He is doing better, under the care of the Corpsmen, but every single one of them is miserable in some way.

Most of the men had jungle rot or trench foot from the constant rain and shitty rations. Most of them were underweight and looked like ghosts.

The Corpsmen worked all day and night, and Andrew Haldane started to think they were god damned saints. They were patient and helpful. And after they made themselves a mostly waterproof little aid station, they got to business. 

When Basilone is done with his outburst, it is Doc Stern who speaks up, 

'Sir, there's only so much these boys can take. Normally I would agree with Gunny, but shit sir, we can't keep sitting in here, waiting when are we going to drown in this mud. The airfield is at least a highland, and the sooner we get there, the sooner we can fuck off from this shithole of an island. Our bandages don't hold anymore, we are almost out of morphine and H&Q doesn't give a rat ass about our sulfa shortages either, we need to move, Sir.' 

Andy looks at Eddie, who is studying the map in front of them. As if feeling the other's gaze on him, he looks up. 

'The Doc is right, skipper, we need to go. And bullshit or not Manila, we got orders. So, let's take an airfield, marines!' 

As the two Gunnys and Lieutenant Jones start a discussion about the best strategy on how to take the airfield, Ack-Ack nods at Stern, who skips out of the tent, into the rain. 

As he closes the flaps behind the corpsman, he thinks that not only these men are keeping their bodies alive and healthy, they are making it sure they don't lose their marbles too. 

_*_

Merriel 'Snafu' Shelton's unmistakable southern drawl breaks the comfortable silence, 

'Move buddy, I need some space!' 

'Get the fuck out of my hole!' Leckie snaps back.

'Aah, _baby_ that's not what you said last night!' 

A chorus of oooh!s and aaah!s fill the tense air. 

'Shelton!' 

'Yes,sir, Lieutenant Jones, sir!' 

Andy rolls his eyes. Eddie makes a ' _can you believe this kid?'_ face as he yells back, 

'Shut your mouth, boy, we don't want the enemy on our ass!'

The smugness is basically dripping from Shelton's 'Aye,aye Lieutenant, shutting up right now!' 

*

Leckie is losing faith. He is losing his god damned mind too, but most of all, he is losing faith. 

The endless hours spent digging foxholes, shooting the enemy and marching through the scary as fuck jungle towards an airfield that might not even exist is making him question everything. 

After the downpour they endured, the couple of days without rain feels like a blessing. 

They all have sores and scars all over their bodies and they feel downright miserable. 

They keep marching on. 

**January 16,1944,Cape Gloucester**

The enemy is tough, but Jay feels like a beast. He is 19, he has his brothers next to him and he has a bazooka on his shoulders. 

When they are all covered behind a great chunk of concrete - a remnant of a building of the airfield- Gunny Haney waves him over. They keep getting shot at, and there's a fucking tank making their way towards them. Jay knows what to do. 

'Private I need you to pump as much damage into that fucker as you can.This is the last big son of a bitch we have today! We got your back, son! 'he nods towards Juergens and Conely, LT Jones and Captain Haldane. Leckie is a bit further with Burgie but they give them a thumbs up too. 

_Here I go!_ Jay thinks, as he loads the rocket, hauls the bazooka on his shoulders, steps out from the cover and takes aim.

He fires. 

The rocket penetrates the tanks head like it's nothing. The sound is deafening and Jay's ears are still ringing when Doc Bryan pulls him down in a crouching position. There are a few gunshots, more enemy falling to the ground, and then silence. His ears are ringing, he can't breathe and he feels dizzy. Doc has a hand on his pulse, his other holding his neck in place, his eyes never leaving Jay's unfocused eyes. 

'Skipper, it's battalion HQ on the line for you!'

While Doc waits for Jay to come back to his senses, Ack-Ack takes the phone to his ears. 

Minutes later, the smile he sends Hillbilly is blinding. He has dirt, blood and sweat covering his whole face, and he is still the most beautiful thing Eddie has ever laid eyes on. 

'The 1st Marines took the other airfield boys, we are done here. We are being sent to a place called Pavuvu for R&R.' he whispers, to the chosen few near him. 

Later, when he gets the whole Company together, they all let out a loud cheer. 

As Tim looks at his men, he feels happy and hollow at the same time. Thinking of all the men they lost, he feels sick. 

He is starting to lose hope, to lose faith and Melbourne seems lightyears away.


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Pavuvu. Dealing with combat fatigue, malaria, enuresis and feelings. Replacements. Kisses. Sunshine. Fear. Land crabs. Change. Bets.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> okay dokie so this chapter is a bit of a breather in terms of violence and acts of war BUT still, there is some heavy stuff here too  
> and yeah, i am making all of my otps canon muhahahahaa  
> voilá, enjoy this sweet chapter because after this we are going to peleliu dear reader  
> *winks then runs away*

_"I want to be with you. It's as simple and as complicated as that."_

_Charles Bukowski_

**January 19, 1944, Pavuvu **

If Melbourne was a safe haven, made of ice-cream, sunshine, pretty Australian women, and semi-comfortable cots, Pavuvu is a rotting coconut, rat, crab, and misery infested nightmare.

Andy's first thought is that he'd rather go and sleep in the damned LVTs than fight the island's conditions.

King Company was told that the Seabees had cleaned up the island, but it looks like the people who were stationed here beforehand only left behind rotting coconuts, dangerous crabs, rats, and half useable tents. But Andy is so tired, still, that he has nothing reassuring to say when their men look at him expectantly. He can't even think straight, the actions of the past days closing in on him. He feels as tired as his men, however being their Captain, he can't let it show.

He swallows, thinks for a minute.

He comes up with nothing.

He feels a warm hand patting him on the shoulder. He turns sideways, coming face to face with Luca Di Gallo. 

The corpsman smiles at him gently, then turns to the men, raising his voice slightly,

''All right, you beautiful bastards. Let's get this place cleaned up a bit, _no_? So, let's make something out of this place, we will be here for a while! And cheer up boys, at least no one is shooting at us! '' he lets an easy smile across his face, but Andy still sees the hurt in his eyes.

" _Allora,_ you heard the Doc! Let's move it, boys." John Basilone, ever on the move, nods at his fellow Italian and organizes the marines into little groups with Haney by his side. The men spring into action, under their Gunnery Sergeants gaze. 

Andy just still stands for a minute, observing his men who are currently instructed by Gunny Haney on how to deal with the moldy, torn tents. 

''Captain Haldane, sir?'' It's Lazzaro, a newer corpsman of theirs, who with his sharp tongue and easy jokes could easily be Basilone's little brother. 

''Doc?'' The kid - he is barely 20 - smiles at the addressing. He is still not used to the respect given to Corpsmen, even though he saved a lot of their men from certain death with his quick work. 

''Sir, I was - _we were_ wondering if we should get a makeshift aid station up and running? Even just a roof for canvas would be good. Some of the jungle sores and trench foot are in need of a check-up. And it would be easier to send anyone to Banika, if necessary after we could do a proper checkup?'' 

"That's a great idea Doc! Gunnery Sergeant Haney? Sir, get over here!'' 

As Haney runs up to them with lightning speed, Andy starts to feel a bit better about the whole island. The men around him started to make themselves useful and there are some tents almost standing already. 

''Sir?''

''Gunny, Doc Lazzaro and the Corpsmen had the idea of an aid station, could you get them the least ruined tent, please? And maybe the biggest one?''

The smile Doc Lazzaro sends him makes all the tiredness vanish from his mind. His men need him and he needs them too. He looks up at Gunny, who is already measuring the tents with his eyes.

''Aye, sir.'' Gunny nods and then runs back to the men, starts to explain to them the task Andy just handed them. 

In an hour, the red on the white cross that signified the medical tent is sewn above the canvas of the entrance of a huge tent. It only has a roof and one wall, but there are already cots and crates of supplies arranged.

The tents of the men and officers are set up too by the time the sun starts to set. 

Gunny Haney, Gunny Basilone, and Eddie made gas lamps, and looking at the seagoing marines teaching the younger boys the ropes, Andy couldn't imagine doing this, surviving this without his men.

_*_

''Awh, s _hit_!'' the sound of Burgin cursing surprises John, who is busy with securing the ropes of his tent. Okay well, it's technically Gunny Haney's and his tent, but the older Gunnery Sergeant is helping the younger marines not to set their tents on fire or mend them back together. John has been tasked to make a little "home" out of the shitty tents they were left with. He decided to set camp near the man if they needed him. Burgin is a tent away from John, trying to drag a cot inside the tent he shared with Shelton and De L'eau.

John scrambles out of his tent in seconds and looks over to Burgie. He is standing on one foot, with a -certainly bigger than it has any right to be - land carb at his feet. 

Before any of them could even raise their voice to call for a corpsman, the sounds of hurried footsteps hit John's ears. Doc Bryan is jogging towards them, face concentrated. John thinks he is preparing for the damage, the wound, or the worst-case scenario. 

Burgie is standing with his back straight, slightly swaying on his feet as Doc Bryan drops down to check what happens to be a bleeding slash from the nasty land crab. The creature is still snapping its claws viciously at Burgie, who made the mistake of rolling his pants up in the heat of the Pavuvu sun, after the months spent in the downpour. The little creature has a bit of blood on its pincers. The wound is not long but deep and it is bleeding viciously. Doc Bryan just lets out a soft sigh, shakes his head, and softly pushes the crab away with the heel of his boot.

"I told you _not_ to fuck with the crabs, Burgie, the little bastards were here before us." 

"T' be honest Doc, I doubted they could do more harm than the banzai attacks or the rain did. S'ppose I was wrong." Burgie's Texan accent slips into his steady but pissed delivery. Bryan just snorts and gets to cleaning and bandaging the ankle of the marine. Burgie hisses at the sting of the disinfectant but otherwise holds still, lights a cigarette while Doc Bryan works in silence. Shelton and De L'eau are watching them with concern on their face. They are standing at the entrance of their makeshift 'home' waiting for Doc's verdict. 

"Yeah, can't blame you for that! Keep the bandage as clean as you can, sir. I'll come and change it tomorrow. And the rats ain't no better, so stay away from those too", he nods at Burgie, who nods back in response. He offers to pull Doc up where he is kneeling in front of him. The corpsman takes Burgie's hand, stands up, and pats the young man in the back. 

"Thank you, Doc!"

"Aye, Sarge. See you tomorrow." 

John watches as the corpsman walks away. His back is straight, head bowed, all tense muscles, and anticipation. Never calm. Never letting his guard down. Ready to run, any time.

 _'They are the only ones who can never take a break'_ John thinks bitterly, with a lump in his throat as his friend passes him with a barely-there smile and a nod. 

He sighs, promises himself to have a talk with the skipper and LT about their corpsmen and their health. They are all worn out, sure but the Docs need rest, even though they wouldn't admit it. 

As he sets up his and Gunny's tent, he has the same feeling as he usually gets before a battle. 

The feeling of change makes him a bit uneasy, but he can't wait for what the future holds. 

_*_

The first one to notice that Runner is shivering is Chuckler. 

Of course, it's _him_ , he has been paying attention to Runner, ever since they met in boot camp. 

However, lately, his observing has shifted from paying attention as a _friend_ to paying attention to _someone you have feelings for._

He first realized his constantly growing feelings for Bud, when one day, they went out for a walk and ice cream in Melbourne. The others were too busy with bar-hopping (Leckie, Hoosier, and Gibson) or wooing young ladies (Sid) or being a _corpsman_ (Tim). 

The two of them chatted about nothing and everything, and as Bud laughed at something Lew has pointed out, his laughter loud,his eyes and face wrinkling with amusement. He had an adoring look on his face when he looked up at Lew, whose stomach felt like it had an army of butterflies trying to break out of it. And when Runner took his hand ( _maybe_ to not get lost in the crowds of people walking the streets of Melbourne _maybe_ just to feel Chuckler's hands in his?) Lee knew he is done for. 

And when he didn't pull his hand away but instead held the hands of the other with confidence, Runner beamed at him and they kept walking, chatting and smiling at each other. The way their hands fit into the others was as natural as breathing. 

Since then, they were more touchy-feely but none of their friends commented on it. They either didn't care or didn't notice. Either way, Lew was grateful because it was starting to get ridiculous how much he blushed when Runner deliberately touched him. The little handsome devil knew it too, sending him a cheeky smirk each time. 

Now however is not the time to get bold, as Runner is shaking like a leaf on his cot, Chuckler piling blankets and unused uniform jackets on him to keep him warm. As he pulls the blankets tighter around Runner's shaking body, he presses his palm to the man's forehead to check his temperature. The cool palm of Chuckler feels like a blessing to Runner's burning body and he snuggles closer, tired, cat-like. He lets out a happy sigh as Chuckler puts his other palm to his neck, cooling the warm,sweaty skin there.

He tries to ignore the little voice in his head that comes up with a totally different scenario of him, blankets and Chuckler's hands on him. He can daydream later. For now, he enjoys the other man's close presence.

He feels safe,protected even though the malaria shakes him to his core. Chuckler lets out a small laugh.

"You are like a kitten, Bud. Maybe that should be an other nickname?"

"Shut up."

"Sure thing... _kitten_."

_*_

" _Tim?_ " 

The sound of Luca's soft voice snaps him out of the staring contest he is in with a suspiciously colourful and huge land crab. The creature seems to be contemplating attacking Tim's boots, with his pincers snapping towards him as a warning. He was minding his business, getting lost in the events of the past, smoking as the sun began to set on the horizon, illuminating the island that will be their home for a while. He found a little spot, out of sight and he decided to take a small break. He has been away from the camp for about 20 minutes but he is still close enough to hear if someone yells ' _Corpsman!_ '.

He looks up from his stare off, lets a tired but honest smile grace his face. Luca looks worried, his handsome face twisting into a frown. 

Tim lets out a soft sigh, 

" _Hello there! How are you Doc?_ " he uses italian on purpose, wanting to test his pronunciation besides he loves the approving smirk Luca always sends him when he hears him. The man lets an appreciative smile grace his features and answers back,

" _I'm fine Timothy. I am-"_ here he uses a word Tim doesn't know and he must make a confused face, because Luca giggles and tries again. Slower, rolling the word on his tongue. Tim would be lying if he said he didn't get distracted by Luca's mouth.

The other man notices too, lets out a small giggle. 

"I said _I am worried about you_ , Timothy. You look sadder and more tired. And I feel the same, but it worries me so-"

"-It's just-It's _shit,_ Luca! What is the point of me being here if I can't even do my god damned job right? Am I here to watch all of my men, all of my friends die?To watch the japanese chop them up, to blow them up?Huh? Fuck, kids keep dying because I can't save the-"

"You can't save everyone Tim. You know this! There are wounds we can't heal no matter how hard we try, no matter how good we are! And" he drops down in front of Tim, puts a reassuring palm on his shoulders, "you can't blame yourself for their death. You did your best! There is nothing else they would ask of you! You are doing your best and you saved so many people already." 

He believes him. Guilt still claws at his guts like a wild animal.

"I just wish I was better. I hate this!" he hangs his head, unshed tears glinting in his eyes. 

He feels too empty, too _alive_ after the months of battle, rain and death. 

It feels like a cruel, cosmic joke, being stranded on an island that is somehow beautiful, sitting at a beach, watching the sunset with a man near, he loves so much it twists his insides. All while the clinking of tens of dog tags he collected not so long ago echo in his ears, remnants of blood are still under his fingernails. 

The tender touch of fingertips on his face make him look up. The man in front of him is painted in orange and golden light as he cups Tim's face.

" You are one of the best, _sweetheart._ And I am so glad you are here. That we are here." 

The beautiful, soft eyes that are full of love pierce into Tim's uncertain ones. Tim's eyes flicker to di Gallo's soft looking mouth and he comes to a long debated decision. 

_He is going to kiss this man. Now or never._

But before he can even finish the thought, the soft palms pull him closer and suddenly there is a tender mouth on his. 

It is a soft,slow and perfect kiss, that makes Tim's toes curl in the insides of his boots.

It is something they both have been waiting for. 

When Tim draws Luca closer by sneaking his arms around the man's waist, they both let out a soft sigh. 

The moan Tim lets out when Luca licks into his mouth should be considered unholy and it sends shivers down his spine. 

After several minutes, they both come up gulping for air, faces flushed, both of their lips red and swollen. Both of their pupils are blown wide and their hearts are racing. Luca lets out a low curse, and Tim blushes like a teenager. 

"Uh, so-"

"Yeah!" 

They both giggle and when Tim takes one of Luca's hands to give it a soft kiss, the Brooklyn born corpsman blushes a pretty shade of pink. Tim takes in the beautiful man in front of him. The wind is playing with Luca's dirty blond hair, his blue eyes drinking in Tim's face.

They stay at their spot on the beach, until the sun sets, trading soft kisses and touches. As he lays his head on Luca di Gallo's shoulder, of whom he is convinced is a miracle dropped into his lap, he confesses,

"I am glad I am here too."

Luca just squeezes their intervened hands and sighs happily. 

For a moment, everything is peaceful and perfect. 

And even if not everything is fine, they have each other.

They will be alright. 

**February 2,1944,Pavuvu**

"G, I, and H Company are shipping in later today so you boys better grab anything useful you can." Gunny Haney's voice roars across the canteen as the men sit down for breakfast. 

They all let out a collective groan, much to Eddie's amusement. He is sitting across Captain Haldane - _Jesus Christ, Eddie I told you to call me Andy!_ \- whose face might be an impressive poker one, but his eyes unmistakably glint with glee.

The rivalry between the companies is ever present, despite all of them marching towards the same goal. 

"Good, I was waiting for the ladies to arrive anyway!" Merriell Shelton's unmistakable accent cuts through the groans. Some of the marines let out a snort or a quick laugh but they resume their eating quickly. They have no time to waste, after all as Haney just pointed out. Eddie watches in amusement as the newly minted Sergeants try to keep order between their teams. Robert Leckie and Merriell 'Snafu' Shelton seemed to be in a heated debate about a portion of one of their breakfast plates as their teammates watched in amusement, while Chuckler and Burgie tried to reason with them.

For their actions and quick reactions on the battlefield on the Cape Gloucester airfield, Ack-Ack found it natural to give Corporal Lew Juergens and Corporal Romus Valton Burgin battlefield commissions. The men were surprised, humbled even. Under Captain Haldane's gaze, they both stood a bit taller, turning slightly pink at their Skipper's praise. 

Now, dealing with their teammates was an other thing. With Runner still sick, but being slightly better, Chuckler's attention faltered only for a moment, before Leckie started the shitshow. Burgie was unimpressed too, and him and Jay tried to reason with Merriell but the boy wouldn't even pay attention.

In the end, it was Hoosier who solved the problem. 

He picked up the remnants of the said breakfast, shoveled it into his mouth, saluted at his shocked table companion and walked out of the canteen without a single fuck given. 

Leckie and Snafu just stared after them, until Burgie told them to close their mouths and eat their damned breakfast. 

Eddie watched the whole thing happen, being only a few meters away. 

He laughed to himself as he sipped his coffee. He turned back to his now cold breakfast still smiling. He felt someone's eyes on him and when he peeked up from his breakfast, he found his CO looking at him with a curious gaze. 

He swallowed his coffee, suddenly aware of his surroundings under Andrew Haldane's careful gaze. He missed the way his Captain's eyes flicked down to the movement of his Adam's apple as he himself was too concentrated on not choking on the drink in embarrassment.

"You love them, don't you Lieutenant?" 

The questions surprises him. The honesty in his own answer even more so,

"Yes. Yes I do Skipper. Couldn't ask for a better company to serve with. I'm honored to be their Lieutenant, even if it is still strange a bit." He smiles sheepishly at Ack-Ack, who he can never say no to. Not like he wouldn't follow the man through Hell itself if he asked. In fact, Cape Gloucester was a version of inferno and Eddie only made it through because he had his men, his Skipper around. 

Andy considered the answer, then considers his own. Moved by the honesty of his Lieutenant, he answers just as sincerely,

"I am honored you are my Lieutenant as well, Hillbilly. I wouldn't make it without you" he lets his voice drop, not wanting the whole canteen to hear his confession. 

Hillbilly's face shows surprise then confusion and finally a smug smile. His voice is filled with cheeky glee as he proclaims, 

"That's only because the other runner ups were not this good looking, Skipper and you'd feel too pretty among these poor bastards, admit it." 

Now it's Andy's time to blush slightly and shake his head in disapproval. He has an answer on his tongue, but he isn't sure if the other marine would welcome it. 

_'You are the only man I have eyes for, Jones'_ he would like to say. 

Instead, he swallows the rest of his coffee and sends a smile to Eddie. 

"Come on Lieutenant. Good looking or not, you and I have paperwork to get through. Finish up and I'll see you in my tent in fifteen,aye?"

"Aye,aye, Captain Andrew Haldane, _sir_." he is being a bastard deliberately but it makes Andy laugh, so it's worth it. 

While Andy walks back to his tent he ponders his growing feelings for his Lieutenant. 

Before he met Eddie, he never really thought of himself as someone who would ever be as heads over heel for someone as he feels now.

He knows he is queer, he loves man just as much as women.

College parties and a few quick fumbled blow jobs after football practice proved that. And being in the Corps which is full of attractive men didn't help his romantic heart either. Sure, he thought some of the men were attractive, beautiful even, but noone worked their way under his skin like Edward 'Hillbilly' Jones did.

He was always there when Andy needed him, didn't even wait for him to finish his sentence, he knew what Andy wanted. They worked well, despite their differences. 

Where Andy was insecure about certain Marine ways or orders, Hillbilly helped with his knowledge, being in the Corps for more than 7 years. He quickly became Ack-Acks most trusted advisor, his aide, his best friend. 

And when he confided his struggles as being a previously enlisted man to raising to the rank of Lieutenant, about his distaste of giving and not receiving orders, Andy found the trust was mutual. 

His deepening feelings for his Lieutenant weren't eased by the way Eddie seemed to make miracles work with his hands, either snatching a difficult paperwork from Ack-Ack to finish or polish a rifle or play with the strings of his beloved guitar. Andy had some not so platonic dreams about his best friend's hands lately and he finds it harder and harder to keep his feelings under the wraps. 

But he respects the man too much, wants the best for him, in every way. 

And if that means swallowing his feeling and yearning from afar, he will make sure nothing slips from him. No matter how much he wants the other man. 

**March 1, 1944,Pavuvu**

"The dumb idiot actually enlisted, I can't believe this shit!" 

Tim looks up in surprise, he never heard Sid this angry before. He wasn't even sure the kid could get this amped up. By the looks of confusion on Chuckler's and Hoosier's face, they are as surprised as Tim. It's Runner, whose temperature Doc is currently checking, who speaks up.

"What's wrong bud?"

"Eugene enlisted. Back in December. Mail only reached me this morning." 

Well shit.

They all knew about Eugene, Sid's best friend from back home, a boy with a kind heart and kinder words, who had a heart murmur and couldn't enlist because of his father's wishes. At first Sid was disappointed that his best mate wasn't with him but then they shipped out and he didn't have time to muse on the lost opportunity. Then Guadalcanal and the baptism by fire happened. Then the combat fatigue set in. Then came Melbourne. Cape Gloucester. And as the losses, the carnage set in, he was adamant on his opinion that he will try to keep Sledge away from all the blood. 

The wish seemed useless and their kind hearted young companion had tears rolling down his face. 

"Come here kid." Tim stood up and pulled Sid in a fierce hug. He felt the boys strong arm wrap around him, and as he sobbed into Tim's shirt, he felt the boys palms hold the back of his shirt like a lifeline. As tears stained his shirt, he thought about Hasser and Trombley and Christenson and Stafford, boys too young for war. 

He wished he could do something to ease Sid's mind. 

But words were not enough, couldn't be, when the possibility of your best friend dying in a war you hated became a reality. 

So Tim held his friend, offered comfort and hoped that Eugene Sledge from Mobile, Alabama will be okay.

**April 5,1944, Pavuvu**

"Dumb _motherfucker_ ,sir, can't you see that he is barely standing on his feet? He is sick? Let him the fuck go and let me help him! You and your dumb -"

"Corpsman I don't know who the fu-"

"I AM his Corpsman! I told you he was sick, I am on my way to ship him off to Banika but if you stand in my way and make it even more diff-"

"Doc you should just let thi-"

"Corpsman Bryan! Lieutenant Larkin! What's the problem here?" 

The Captain's voice felt like music to Leckie's ears. 

When his enuresis worsened during their rest, Chuckler called Doc Stern who then talked with Tim, who made it his personal mission to get Leckie off the island and into capable healing hands as soon as possible. The short tempered Corpsman who hated Larkin anyway and who now seemed to be seconds away from punching the Lieutenants lights out. As Tim held Leckie by his elbow - who had to stand at attention by Larkin's orders, much to Tim's anger - Larkin started to insult him and the K/3/5 and then he managed to tell some sick jokes about one pissing his pants. 

Oh, well, Leckie had worse days, but he didn't want Tim to get discharged so he tried to calm him down.

Then thankfully the skipper's steady voice interrupted them and the Captain was looking at Larkin with such a fierce gaze that Tim felt small too.

"Captain Haldane, sir. I was on my way to put Corporal Leckie on an evac-boat to take him to Banika, when Lieutenant Larkin seemed it fitting to insult the Marine under my care. Sir."

Timothy Robert Bryan is one of the best, if not the best corpsman Andy ever came across. He was fast, kind and always ready. He was strong as hell and a force to be reckoned with. Andy didn't doubt for a second that he was telling the truth. The anger is apparent in the Doc's voice and eyes and Corporal Leckie looks miserable too. Whereas Larkin smiles like Christmas came early. But at the serious voice of Ack-Ack, his face drops.

"Take the Corporal to the boat Doc. We will talk later. Lieutenant Larkin I'd advise you to not mess with my men, especially when they're sick." 

Larkin swallows, noting the dangerous edge in the Captain's voice. Doc Bryan nods and takes Leckie towards the port. While they walk away, as he watches them go after Larkin takes off in the opposite direction, Andy can hear Leckie exclaim 

"Holy shit! Skipper is awesome!That was badass! And hot as fuck! _Holy shit_!" 

Bryan just snorts, and hurries away from prying ears. Andy can still hear his agreeing 

"Yes it was! Now get yo' ass in a hurry, the boat is not waiting all day!"

"Aye,aye Doc! By the way you and my other favorite Corpsman seem awfully cozy lately care to-" 

As they rib at each other, while Andy looks out after them, he knows he'd threaten as many asshole COs as he has to, to make sure his men are safe. He owes them as much. 

_*_

Hoosier has been a different kind of mopey ever since Leckie left. He looks like a sad, kicked puppy and Runner can't deal with it. 

"He will come back, cobber, loosen up a bit!"

"It's been two weeks, Bud! What if they take him off the line? What if he is already home and we-" 

"They would have notified one of us first." Doc di Gallo shakes his head, pointing at Tim and then at himself. From his place from the floor, trying to guess Runner's cards, Bryan grunts in agreement. They are playing a vicious game of poker and so far Sid is the winner. Hoosier is too preoccupied by his feelings and di Gallo is there as moral support. 

Chuckler deals a new row of cards and they all groan. 

They keep playing, with words of reassurances towards Hoosier, who seems deep in his thoughts. 

Two days later, when Leckie walks into their tent, Bill Smith throws any anxiety he has out the window, grabs him by his collars and kisses him on the mouth. Leckie is so surprised he has to take two seconds to kiss back, but when he does, he drops his bag and grabs the other man so tenderly it almost hurts. 

No one notices two pack of smokes changing hands, because Runner, di Gallo and Chuckler are too busy cheering and yelling 'finally, you oblivious fucks!'. 

And if Snafu looks even more pleased himself than he usually is the next days, who can blame him? 

** May 12,1944,Pavuvu **

They are standing in front of The John Basilone. The actual legend, the man who is deemed fearless and immortal. In Bill Leyden's opinion, the man looks alike any other marine he ever met, only with the exception that he has a hat assigned to Gunnery Sergeants. The Gunny greets them in fashion, while the company COs and the other older Gunnery Sergeant stand back. 

"This is King Company, 3rd Battalion, 5th Marines and if any of you want to make it through this god damned war, you batter listen to anything your NCOs and Company Officers say. Even more so when a Corpsman speaks to you! Find yourselves a place to sleep, tomorrow morning we will have PT at 0700 sharp. Company dismissed!"

"Aye, Gunnery Sergeant!" 

As Bill follows Sledge and Oswalt through camp, looking for a place to stay, he overhears a loud hiss and a "Motherfucker!".

The blonde, kind faced but now pissed off looking man who steps away from a rat, which is still screeching locks eyes with Bill.

"Hello boys! Welcome to our humble home! Stay away from the rats and crabs! And Snafu!"

As he walks off, cursing to himself in italian with a noticable limp, Oswalt asks,

"What the fuck is a snafu?" 

Snafu turns out to be Merriell Shelton, who absolutely does not rake his eyes on a certain redhead when he has the smallest of chance to. 

But Bill wouldn't notice anyway, being too busy listening to Jay De L'eau spell his name for the fourth time. He must think Bill is a boot fucked idiot, but with a voice and accent like this, he could listen to the boy talk for hours. Not even mentioning his face! 

_*_

As Eugene struggles to get out of Sid's chokehold, he hears footsteps coming their way. His airflow is cut though, so he can't warn Sid.

"Get up off my deck!" 

Sid let's go and stands up immediately. Eugene is confused at first, but he follows suit. 

"Corporal Philips, what is this?" 

The taller one of the two, who has the bar of a Lieutenant pinned on his soft cover speaks up, words accusing. Sid swallows and it is apparent how much he respects these men.

"Childhood best friends sir, Lieutenant Jones, sir. Eugene is one of my best friends." 

The _one of_ kind of hurts Eugene, makes the green eyed monster called jealousy stir in his stomach. He pushes it down. He spent nearly two years without Sid. They all change. 

Lieutenant Jones smiles at the Captain, who just shakes his head and tells them not to break any important limbs and to carry on. 

As they walk away, Andy can feel the two boys gaze linger on them. With the new replacements, the boys still too young, too eager their next battle and their losses are going to be a different kind of nightmare. 

_*_

_"_ Bryan!"

"Gunny? You know I'm right!" 

"I bet you fifty bucks that the LT is going to budge first!" 

" _No,no,no ma che cosa_? It's going to be the Skipper or no one. Jones is a sea goer, he knows how this is! He wouldn't flaunt his crush on the Skipper! You can't broadcast this there is no way-" 

"Di Gallo look if I want to be honest-" 

"I'm betting on the Skipper too!" 

"Holy shit Burgie, are you sure?" 

"Aye,aye Gunny! Two packs of smokes, all my chocolate rations and as much cookie as i can bribe from the kitchen!" 

"Deal!"

"Deal!" 

"You crazy fucks, I'm in!"

Eddie steps in the tent just in time as Burgie, Doc Di Gallo and Doc Bryan exit the tent of the Gunnery Sergeants. They all look suspiciously calm, di Gallo even starts to whistle a tune as they salute and pass him on their way out. 

Gunny Haney looks pleased and Basilone pretends like he knows nothing but Eddie is pretty sure he just missed something important. 

He grabs his beloved guitar and gestures towards the general direction of the beach. 

On their way, he tries to grill his Gunnery Sergeants but they don't say anything worth mentioning. 

As his Company settles around him on the beach, he takes the scene of his men in, old and new, all of them way too young to be here. Hell, he is young too. 

As he strums the first chords of the song, he clears his throat and thinks of how the definition of home has changed from his childhood home to the sea of marines in front of him. His men are quieting down, sharing smokes and rations while they listen to him sing. Their little moment of calm before they go to an other battle.


End file.
